BBC Life on Mars - Autism Changes
by Philip Glenister tomboy
Summary: Gene Hunt is a single parent of Gary who has autism, after his wife didn't want a child with problems - faced with raising him alone in the 1960s-1980s where children with special needs were often segregated from mainstream schools, kept at home with parents and special schools were nothing more than glorified nurseries (etc). He shows his son lots of patient love and care.
1. The Autism Diagnosis

**This was my challenge - to write an autism related piece for BBC Life on Mars UK as it'll be one of my first multi chapter layered fan fiction works, hope all my fans enjoy this!**

 **However it contains attitudes from the 1960s-1980s on how autism was approached in those days from being kept at home with parents, segregated from mainstream schools, abuse from ignorant public and where special schools were nothing more than glammed up nurseries for people with additional needs and disabilities of all ages.**

* * *

DI Gene Hunt watched his wife Michaela as she rocked a new born baby in her arms; the year was 1965 "He's everything," he whispered to her, earning a nod of agreement. The new parents looked at each other as Gene was promoted as one of the youngest Detective Inspectors at just twenty two of the Salford and Manchester Police force by his father figure guv'nor DCI Harry Woolf.

"Thank you!" she replied to her police officer husband breathing. Michaela cocked her hand, her voice still hoarse from screaming through labour in the mothers to be ward of the National Health Service, Manchester Royal Hospital. "For giving me a child. I know you were still on the fence due to your thankless demanding career, but you listened to me for the first time since we courted." she continued. Her warm smile indicated that she loved him dearly to the ends of the universe. Gene snuggled closely to his missus and enjoying everything he had before him - his financial status, flourishing through to Detective Inspector and colleagues/mates at Salford and Manchester Police.

And then a sudden flashy alarm bell made the young Manchurian detective rise to attention immediately: Did he really deserve a child of his very own?

 **XXXXXXX**

Two years later in 1967 it was a devastating Children's Pediatrician visit on the Child Development wing of the Manchester Royal Hospital. Gene and Michaela Hunt had become very concerned about their baby after his second birthday where he disliked interacting with other children and refusing to walk more frequently like he had at 6-12 months old. He hadn't strung any mini sentences together yet. They were worried about their neighbours finding out and would know their baby was developing differently from other children, sensing he's retard kid and one children would be warned not to play with in case the problem was catching. The parents didn't want the above scenario. The appointment was scheduled to begin at 9:30 am in the morning.

They weren't released until 3:00 pm in the afternoon, so thankfully Gene arranged a day's leave from Salford and Manchester Police, only letting DCI Harry Woolf know the secret reasons why; since his colleagues particularly DC Ray Carling would taunt him relentlessly shouting disablist remarks such as "Why don't you put your damaged child into one of those institution hospitals?" and the crude suggestions would only fly around the large CID room aisle desks burning like hotcakes.

After hearing the parents' complaints and concerns, the doctor wearing a white suit, stethoscope, a balding head of brown greying hair and black rimmed glasses took Gary Hunt into in-depth examination. Dr. Landon Prose observed the child play, eat (or rather refuse food), saw crying patterns and concentrated on how he separated from his parents. The diagnosis spelled pessimistic gloomy pictures and was seriously troubling. "Mr and Mrs Hunt," the doctor began slowly well schooled in his medical predictions. He turned his gaze down on dark purple flooring, where little Gary Hunt was lining up Dinky cars and knocking wooden coloured building blocks down. "I regret to inform you that your son has autism." DI Gene Hunt gasped as there was a formal but rarely used name to describe the activities Gary partakes in. Michaela's let the tears stream down as her aspirations and hopes for a normal baby were all disappeared in a poof and sobbed hysterically as she clung on to Gene's brown camel coat for support. "It fits the patterns of behaviour you described to me. I could see it in the flesh." the man went on sadly and shook his head.

"He doesn't eat unless spoon fed, screams when separated from his parental attachments, he consistently fidgets, doesn't create imaginative play and only babbles; of course there's also the tell tale symptoms..." Michaela sobbed when Dr. Prose notices building blocks strewn around the consultation room. Gene refused to let any tears fall, why should he as after all he is a hard nosed copper, banging the scum up into jail cells and the strong one for his little boy.

"How can we correct it?" urged Gene, but the doctor let the fate of what was to come drag out of his lips "There's simply no cure for this rare developmental disorder. I do know of one of my colleagues that is conducting neurological studies at one of the local special schools and I'm sure he'd love to give Gary his best efforts. He'll teach you how to work with your child. And not to mention this pioneering research will go on to benefit children born from years from now." the clever, high educated doctor explained. Gene's missus Michaela went spitting feathers in angry tears "I don't care about the children years from now! I want my baby to be normal, not a thick retard that will stay a toddler forever!"

 **XXXXXXX**

Just a few months later Gene was sat at his desk working overtime late one evening. It was his favourite thing as he didn't have to listen to her indoors moaning about doctor's appointments, no paperwork or police admin; arguments still continued. Suddenly the phone rang as Michaela couldn't deal with a nightly tantrum suddenly already starting.

Usually the parents took turns with the baby. Gene could hear the intense screaming and crying cutting through like a dentist drilling holes into sooty black rotten teeth. How could such a tiny child make a racket? It was a horribly familiar pattern since Gary awaken due to being separated from his parental units - he couldn't help it - it was autism. Every time that word crossed the sandy blonde Detective Inspector's mind, his perfect son was already dysfunctional and damaged, could Gary ever be fixed?

In fact the junior double of Gene was shrieking in his nursery as Michaela failed miserably to sing a lullaby, the tantrums getting increasingly bizarre as if nobody tried to help in the first place. "Is everything hunky dory? What the -"

"I'll tell 'ou what's going on, I can't listen to your kid's tantrums all night and day, I didn't want him to have all these subnormal behaviours like a spoilt twat! It's driving me crazy and insane!" flinging a red suitcase over the bed and swung a mink coat over her pyjamas, Gene leapt up to block the front door with his 6 ft 11 inch frame "Michaela!" he exclaimed "Stop this bloody nonsense woman, you're just overtired, now let the Gene Genie help."

"I want a divorce Gene, and... I'm never coming back!" Michaela Hunt demanded thinking their relationship had been on the rocks recently.

"Since our Gary was six months old. Before we knew he had this 'thing'. Gene, I didn't want a baby, you kept thinking of your little brother Stuart when he was a kid. I felt sorry for you, gave in and look at this abomination! This isn't a common condition, maybe if your little brother wasn't born... then maybe the baby would 'ave been normal!"

DI Gene Hunt was floored by emotions he couldn't understand, it hurt him worse than a villain punch up "My baby brother?" he whispered in disbelief "This is because of me?"

"Yes! You've passed on your little brother's neurological and mental disorder like the doctor said it was! And I didn't even want this child to begin with... Gene I demand a divorce, I'm done with this and I don't love you!" Michaela shouted tears streaming down her face as Gene couldn't convince his soon to be ex wife to change her mind.

Michaela headed for the front door stepping out with her red suitcase. "I'm going to my parents house, tell the brief to bring the divorce papers there." The blue door slammed shut. Gene couldn't think, what had happened? The shrieking sobs brought him back to reality; he was alone, his heart aching worse than the post mortem cases in the body identifying buildings. Gene ran towards the nursery, he snatched the wailing child out of his cot and hugged him tightly. Gary eventually stopped his tantrum at the sensation of being swayed back and forth - it was his favourite thing used to help him calm down. The small boy sucked his thumb. He reached up with his left hand and flexed it towards the cot bars. DI Gene Hunt shakily stood up and placed his baby into the brightly coloured cot. Little Gary let his eyes drift into sleep, he didn't know he wouldn't see his mother again or the fact his father was heartbroken. All Gary could perceive was the soft knitted blanket tucked over him, the cuddly rabbit he cherished and his little thumb stayed comfortably in his mouth.

The blonde haired young man reached down into the cot to touch his boy's soft cheek with his index finger "It's just you and me flamer," he whispered tearfully, hold on the Manc Lion actually crying tears of despair caught in his throat, but didn't let it show for Gary's sake. "I'm never going to leave you behind." Gene stood next to the cot for several hours, just watching little Gary Hunt sleep without a care in the world. Gene slept the entire night in the nursery as a token sign of his commitment on the pink carpet.


	2. DCI Gene Hunt's Child Struggles

**Chapter two is meant to be short as this will explain Gary Hunt's unusual play with toys and where Gene Hunt is signposted to a radical parent counselling service for children and adults with autistic spectrum disorders. I promise it'll help transition the story arc. Still sitting comfortably? Great!**

* * *

The Sixties turned into the Seventies - 1970 to be precise. DC Sam Tyler was sat with DCI Gene Hunt on the lime green sofa suite, closely watching five year old Gary Hunt play on the lounge room floor which had various shades of brown, orange and pink. The boy toddled over to his toy box, knocked it over to watch everything stream out spilled, and then stacked his building blocks, _Corgi_ cars and _Fisher Price Play People_ into lines organised to look like a mini town almost. Gary Hunt's eyes were dark with black bags underneath giving away the obvious sign he was overtired. "He does this a lot?" asked the leather jacket clad best friend of Gene Hunt as he would become a Detective Inspector three years later in 1973.

Sam asked out of curiosity, not really sure on why he kept his voice low at the level of a whisper - Gary wasn't paying attention anyway. Gene nodded "He doesn't play imaginatively in the way you'd expect from most kids. And what does my Gary do? Knocks every one of his toys around if he's had enough. It's almost tough to watch, than the dozens of scum I put away." he explained, Sam nodded slowly as he was aware that in the future autism would include other various presentations under the one rainbow umbrella. Gary picked up a yellow _Lego Nursery_ block and studied it for a moment, then let out a screech and threw it against his _Fisher Price Family Home_.

He gave a tap on Gene's leg indicating he wanted attention now. "Are you going to get him help?" Sam Tyler asked casually, not trying to intrude in Gene's home life or sound like he came from the future. Gene took a sip of tea dunking his Garibaldi inside. "There's a doctor at the special educational needs school that's conducting this new piece of autism research, and he advised he'd like us to do is bring Gary to a group of other autistic children. The parents have a guided counselling session while their children interact. It's supposed to be good for those special kiddies. That starts from next week." The way Gene's voice sounded - it struck Sam in a way it didn't when at Manchester & Salford Police station catching criminals on the cobbled streets of Manchester. The young parent sounded exhausted, as if he had no lifelines and alone with caring for this child for the rest of his life. He couldn't imagine what it was like for Gene to face his missus abandoning their son on the grounds he was mentally retarded becoming a newly single parent with a disabled child. Sam reached over to put an arm comfortingly around Gene who describes Gary's behaviours as if it sounded like a bad thing. "He doesn't even call me 'Daddy' or 'Dada'..." Gene's voice broke into several pitches higher letting a few tears fall before drawing in a deep breath "It's alright, Guv," Detective Constable Sam Tyler murmured "The special play group sessions are going to help. He'll see other children - maybe some will be past the non verbal stage and he'll imitate them. It's going to work Gene and you'll both benefit from the special school's sessions."

"It's just hard doing daddy duties by myself..." wept the twenty seven year old.

Sam didn't know what was the politically correct thing to say was. He honestly felt bad for his mate who had became Detective Chief Inspector at just twenty five in 1968 - the man's life wasn't easy as copper, parent, carer and home teacher - why couldn't he catch a break with the different roles for once? "I'm not much help to my soon to be wife WPC Annie Cartwright, so she says; and look she's got two cousins, you're doing better than their parents right this moment. A six year girl and a two year old boy makes things challenging; Ginny their mum wants to have another one by the way? She wants this one now before Darrel gets too old. This way they can play together. See how well you're doing? You don't have to worry about all that age gap jazz."

"At least they can speak to you..." his features were very similar to Philip Glenister only with a Northern English twang.

"He will Guv, I promise he will." reassured the highly educated police officer that had John Simm in his DNA.

Gary walked away from his discarded toys and wandered back over to Gene, hands outstretched towards him. Gene's mini-me made some babyish babbling sounds and patted his father's lap. "Want to sit with me?" Gene asked. He pulled his little one up so that he was resting on his lap. Immediately, Gary started crying which made Gene sigh in frustration "Just tell Daddy what you want!" he hissed as Sam gently placed a hand on his son's chest to calm him. Gene watched as his own boy wriggled and cried; as if he needed the potty rocking back and forth with a complaint, physically having no way to turn it into a verbal means of communication.

DCI Gene Hunt read Gary's vocalisation for potty and took his son to the bathroom, holding him over the shiny dark blue bowl, the father begins saying "Going to do wee-wee?" doing the 'psssss' cue to encourage Gary to do his business; readjusting his hold so that Gary was reclining slightly in his arms, until there was no more water fountain coming out. The boy quietened a bit, the redness in his cheeks slowly dissolving to the usual pale once he had a chance to relieve himself in an appropriate potty receptacle. The DCI prefers to wait ensuring the number twos are inside properly. Returning to the lounge room, Gene watched as he stuck his little thumb in his mouth, using his other free tiny hand to wave indicating Gary wanted something more. Without a word, his young Detective Chief Inspector father began rocking him slowly, it was his favourite sensation. DC Sam Tyler remained silent as Gene's son began to fall into a deep sleep, clearly appeased by his presence of cradling and the soft humming Gene produced as a lullaby.

Several minutes later, Gene carried Gary into the nursery to lay him into the cot. Sam observed how quietly gentle and patient, this man was making a change from the usual demeanour he saves for at work in the police station, ordering CID around, when he really knew his Guv'nor was at his wits end; not surprisingly due to the lack of public understanding on autism. Gene Hunt sighed heavily as he closed the nursery door after exiting. "And that," he said sadly "is my twenty four hour secret outside of CID." Sam empathised refraining from saying too much as after all it is the 1970s - at least it felt good for the two to meet on common prejudice free ground to unload all of Gene's complaints and burdens upon his most trusted colleague. "I had to keep this secret from the rest of the boys, in case they called me a French bender Manchester United supporting poof or assume I was up the duff being one of those new age fathers." Gene choked out overwhelmed by fresh tears "I have to be a mam as well... because my missus didn't want a handicapped baby!" Just like a football it missed goals, but eventually scores points in the end with the parenting match - sometimes one had to wait at their lowest point in life.

And that was what scared the Manc Lion most of all.


	3. Special Playgroups and Wimpy Bars

**I'm really glad that my research on other autism pieces for fanfiction have paid off and hope you love it! Please let me know if you have any questions. There is more to come, it's only the beginning of this Life on Mars UK episode. I hope this explains autism as it were in the 70s-80s a bit better and is moving the storyline to the next level. Progress wasn't built in a day! Leave me a review if you like.**

* * *

September 1971 - Gene hastily unbuckled the child seat of little Gary, ignoring the tantrums that came along with lifting him out of the brand new J registration metallic pink Ford Cortina MkIII GXL. He struggled to balance the baby bag, the screaming child clinging to him desperately, and his keys to lock the coke bottle curved car again. This special school play group session had better be worth it! Gene reorganised himself quickly, walking through the doors of the Crescent House Special School with a wailing nearly six year old hugging his neck, attracting the attention of several nursery nurses and teachers. He nodded politely but bee-lined for the lifts. He muttered "God, this better be worth it and you don't terrorise the other children." hissed DCI Gene Hunt.

Gene finally reached his destination - a little classroom disguised as a playroom with big glass windows and massive painted doors filled with frieze posters on the alphabet, numbers, colours, shapes and first words; already containing several people with cute autistic children and adults. He pulled the double doors open. A sweet nursery nurse aged fifteen years old offered to take Gary off his police officer father's hands, which he accepted to get seated in the circle where all the parents and carers were. Immediately, he gulped; most of them were housewives, women, mothers. Some fathers present but they always had a wife or girlfriend at their arm. He was the only father turned single parent in the classroom. The other parents and carers smiled at him gently - they were there due to the same autism challenges they faced. The amount of empathy in the room began to work it's magic on the Guv and eventually he was able to relax a bit.

The special education teacher seated herself in the circle with them all "Good morning, everybody!" she greeted cheerfully "I'm Margaret Bannister, I work in conjunction with Dr. Landon Prose assisting in his research on this rare social communication developmental disorder. I'm going to be your leader and guide in to being able to understand our autistic children/persons, through Dr. Prose's on-going research. While we talk and experiment, the doctor may come in to observe the children or stimulate them. He'll often visit when we do the bonding segment of this class. First I'd like to get all the children seated around or on their parents' laps, so if you please; go to the toy area and bring your child here." DCI Gene Hunt was stunned at the semi chaotic sight before him with children from two to twenty five were either creating mini towns or throwing them around. He carefully lifted up Gary from behind, earning a squeal of disapproval as did many of the parents and carers. He cradled his son, hushing him softly as Gene carried him over to the circle of plastic primary colour school chairs. He sat down with his boy on his lap.

Margaret smiled warmly once everyone was seated. "All right, very good. Now I'd like for us to go in a clockwise circle and say our names and who your child is so we can get to know everyone. I know this may sound old hat cliché, but we're all friends here. Every single one of us in this classroom knows what kind of what a struggle it is to be burdened by autism, and by working together we can search for more acceptance and understanding for future generations; we can also improve our relationships with autistic persons. No one is alone in this crusade - not them, nor us. So why don't we start from my right side. Ma'am would you like to go first?" she went on. A copper brown haired woman introduced herself, nervously glancing around the room. She introduced herself and her little girl (who was only one of two females with the condition in this group), followed by every other set of parents, carers or mothers. Gene was picked last "I'm DCI Gene Hunt, I'm the only caregiver of my son, Gary. He's five and a half years old. What else was there to say? But Mrs Bannister's warm smile was welcoming and she seemed to accept instantly that he was a divorced Salford & Manchester Police officer male caring for his baby by himself. Gene supposed he'd felt a bit better about being at the Crescent House Special School.

A lesson went on between the school staff adults and parents/carers, guided first by Margaret. "Look at them directly, point to either them or yourself depending on how verbal their speaking habits are, and repeat the name. For example: Judy would point at her son and say 'Danny'. Gene would point to himself and say 'Daddy'. Does everyone understand? The purpose of this exercise is to increase the children's awareness to others around them and to model how speaking with the way they see occurs in everyday life." she explained. DCI Gene Hunt's face burned in embarrassment like the fry ups he enjoyed on a lazy Sunday, at the fact Gary had been noticed as the one who wasn't interested in the spoken word. The clients all split up with their responsible caregivers, sitting on the floor with their children from two to twenty five as they followed the exercise guidelines. DCI Gene Hunt sat Gary down in front facing him. He'd gently used a brightly coloured toy to attract his son's attention and soothingly turn the boy's face up to look at him, but Gary would get distracted easily as a result of his autism. The hard hitting police officer would have to figure out how to catch his attention. He pointed directly towards himself.

"Daddy," he said.

Gary at first didn't seem to pay much attention. He fiddled with his fingers and tried to attack his shoelaces. "Daddy," Gene tried again, waiting for a response as Gene looked around at the other children- they were listening to their parents, not necessarily using proper pronunciation but still making progress with the acquisition of spoken language, levels away from his little boy. "Dada," said Gary, happy tears of joy sparkled Gene's eyes "say it again, to me!" he asked. "Dada!"; sometimes he even picked up Gary's hand and pointed it towards himself to empathise the importance of Gary calling him that. DCI Gene Hunt watched as Margaret guided the children back to the play area to play together.

She returned to her seat alongside the parents and carers, smiling brightly when Dr. Landon Prose stepped in to the brightly yellow classroom door. He greeted everyone politely, his eyes always flickered back to the children. Gene could tell he wasn't a quack job instantly in which he enjoyed his occupation wanting to do everything in his power possible to reach those beautiful souls who were devoid of any social and communication skills, improving the standard of autism research. Clearing his throat "I'd like to stress the vital importance of something to all parents and carers," he said when taking Margaret Bannister's seat as she headed for the toy area. "It's the importance of communication. Even when the house is silent, even when it's dinnertime and everyone is concentrating on eating - talk. Talk aloud, talk to your children. The more accustomed they become to hearing voices and following facial movements, the more they'll want to imitate it. It will lead to more success. I'm conducting more research projects, but I would like to encourage you all to sing to them even after they've fallen asleep. The brain is still functioning twenty four hours a day. With sounds being non-stop; they'll want it, they'll be used to them. Consider it as your home learning assignment." he advised. Tears burned the streetwise Manchurian copper when he saw so many mothers crying at the doctor's words when he had to deal with cases that needed treatment into mental hospitals. Some of the children were even older than Gary - the eldest being a twenty five year old male. Would Gary progress beyond babyish babbling and understand just how imperative verbal communication was? Who knows.

DCI Gene Hunt practiced with Gary so much at home. He repeated motions repetitively, constantly reaching out; but received small moments in return. He sang to Gary as he rocked him, talked aloud (even if it was to himself), every moment he could, even during the times he took Gary with him to work in Salford and Manchester Police. He brought Gary to a Wimpy bar restaurant to introduce his son to many people talking all at once - maybe it would spark extra in him. Gene doubted it though, even though he spoke fondly of the area called his gut instinct especially when little Gary had a violent temper tantrum, the moment they were seated; apparently he didn't want to sit in the high chair provided for him. He wanted to sit on his young father's lap. But Gene stayed the alpha male - king of the jungle not letting kids waltz all over his kingdom - he didn't give in to appease the screaming nearly six year old child. It took a good amount of elapsed time for Gary to get tired of his fit and settle back down. The Wimpy waiter wearing a smart red uniform with the Wimpy logo badge wasn't feeling brave to approach the child until the loud tears reduced to sniffling.

Gene just knew that Gary wasn't going to eat. He never did, even at the comfort of home. Gene Hunt usually made dinner for one, then put some of his food on to Gary's plate or bowl to pick at. The waiter brought both males a glass of water "Can I just order your son something? I won't charge you if he doesn't eat it," DCI Gene Hunt rejected the offer since it reminded him of the time he took his first bribery "Gary has autism and rarely eats anything. I'll just order and he can pick off my plate, if that's okay with you?" he admitted with his infamous pout. The waiter nodded with a sad smile. She asked what Gene wanted to order using a gesture to finger direct the statement towards the boy's father.

"Dada!" he complained. Gene jumped up from the table running towards his hungry son, tearing him out of the highchair and hugging Gary tightly whilst spinning "Yes, Gary; Daddy knows you're getting hungry!" he cried out as she brought a Brown Derby for the DCI's son when he delivered Gene's food. Gary was more interested in the sweet doughnut dessert that had Mr, Whippy ice cream and chocolate sauce on top - he ended up taking more bites out of that than the junior cheeseburger and fries before that. The playgroup session at the Crescent Special School just unlocked; with playfulness, trying new foods and language being the opened key for Gary. He would be alright in his own strange way as it didn't bother Gene.


	4. Turn and Face the Spectrum Music

**I've never written any storyline on autism before for BBC Life on Mars UK fanfiction, so please bear with the episode groundwork as it develops - hope you enjoy chapter four! By the way certain typos will be used to represent Gary Hunt's retained baby babbling - you'll discover why in the dialogue of DCI Gene Hunt's son; please enjoy.**

* * *

The amount of progress Gary Hunt was making with the help of his Manchester MENCAP autism support playgroup, still taking place at Crescent Special School was astounding in 1972. Now at seven years old, he could form small sentences and identify objects on his own - occasionally he'd ask Gene to teach him new words. The once unhappy vocally stimming boy was now an language and academic explosion, soaking in all the information he could process. DCI Gene Hunt was so proud - he'd wished his ex wife formerly Michaela Hunt didn't walk out on their autistic baby and remembering she blatantly didn't want a child with social communication mental handicap in the first place. DCI Gene Hunt had to push those memories from the Sixties aside in order to stay positive and communicative with his son, who was increasingly having good days, better than his father's favourite western film of _The Good, The Bad and The Ugly_.

And then again some days were bad and ugly.

Today was one of those days. Gary was refusing to eat his _Nestle Gerber Junior Dinner_ baby food jar of sausage and vegetables with traces of strained bacon because he'd learned how to argue. Margaret Bannister informed the parents and carers that at certain ages, a child with autism spectrum disorder would often become obsessed with things - it was nearly impossible for them to let it go. Gary's new obsession was chocolate. But not just any old chocolate, it had to be very specific. They got to be _Cadbury's Curlywurly,_ no Dairy Milks, Kit Kats or Yorkie bars. Just Cadbury's Curlywurly as he's seen DCI Gene Hunt, his father frequently dipping them into his coffee at the Manchester and Salford Police 'A' Division CID department. So while the brash talking Detective Chief Inspector was learning better communication and teaching methods, Gary Hunt suddenly had a mind of his own realising he was separate from his father and learning how to throw louder temper tantrums like the other kids to get what he wanted. Gene held the spoon up to the boy's lips "Eat up?" he suggested. Gary turned his head and stuck out his tongue. "Eat up, Gary? Eat up for Daddy?" Then he stubbornly crossed his arms "No bite. brrrrrrrr." he babbled. "Gary, use your words." DCI Gene Hunt tried to encourage. Sometimes the boy had a crazy language all of his own - while his twenty nine year old father was beginning to get used to and understand it, he didn't take that as a form of proper verbal communication. Gary just had to learn the English language. "Curlies" the boy said.

DCI Gene Hunt chuckled "No Curlywurly until you eat up." But Gary didn't see this as fair and he wasn't playing. He refused again and again to eat the baby food jar of sausage and vegetables with strained bacon. After a while Gene became slightly frustrated - the child was small and underweight anyway and not feeding him healthy food wasn't going to help his situation. Suddenly Gary wriggled free out of his highchair from the kitchen and stomped away. "Gary? Come to Daddy!" Gene called. But he hurried away into Gene's own bedroom during his break bid for freedom. Sighing heavily, the youngest senior ranking police officer got up to follow him and see where his heart for a CurlyWurly took him to on that quest. A loud thump coming from the wardrobe caused him to run a little quicker. "Gary?" he asked into the room. Gary had crawled into the wardrobe and was chucking pairs of loafer shoes out towards the door. "Hey, stop that! Come here, Gary." Gene said, watching the odd behaviour. But again like in the power struggle on food, Gary wasn't playing. He was really mad. Gary went to stand up, toddled over to the bedside cabinet table and kicked it. He batted the lamp clean off completely. Gene went forwards to restrain him safely, grabbing him before he got hurt known as "owies" to his baby, but didn't get to his child in time.

Gary picked up Gene's framed wedding photo from 1962 and threw it forcefully against the wallpaper.

The glass shattered everywhere into shards on the maroon carpet. Gene's heart froze - time stopped. He didn't keep the monochrome photograph as a reminder of what failed, but as a intermittent hope that Michaela Hunt would realise her mistake and see all that he's done for little Gary. "Mama?" Gary pointing confused. Gene wondered where he got that particular word from, was it from the kids at the MENCAP autism support playgroup as he heard them? But his autistic son couldn't understand what it meant - that he didn't actually have a mother? "No, Gary!" DCI Gene Hunt gasped breathless from the shock of having to grab quickly and the broken objects cluttering up his maroon carpet. "Daddy." But Gary hated that answer instead crossing his arms and repeating himself.

"Mama?" pointing to the older woman in the wedding dress.

"No I'm daddy, your mam walked out on us years ago."

"Tttttssshh, mama?"

"Words, Gary."

"Warren has a mama." he replied.

"Lots of kids do... but you're special because you've got just a Daddy."

"Mama, gone?"

The words chilled DCI Gene Hunt to the core, he'd never expected to hear a cynical view like this coming from his baby. Gary practically grew up without a mother, what was the big fascination with mummies now? How could little Gary miss something he never had? "But you have daddy whose also a copper and that's good fun."

Gary screamed, kicking his feet - the crying commenced; they were headed for a full blown tantrum now. Gary screamed his demands for a Curlywurly; wringing his hands, bawling, kicking and squirming full works of not being in control. It wasn't until he smacked his own father out of sheer frustration after reaching his hand up. Shocked and stunned, DCI Gene Hunt watched his son throw himself on the floor as he begged for a Curlywurly. He got down to Gary's level "I don't know why you're so fascinated by mummies - she failed you and you will never have a mummy! Get that fact through your head, Gary!"

"Mama, babababa!" babbled Gary.

"Daddy was nothing more than a prize because I'm a police officer catching villains and she used me..."

DCI Gene Hunt listened to his son Gary's baby talk, his secret language that not even his father could decipher in cryptography on notes criminals sent to him. It all got too overwhelming, so he decides to place Gary down in his cot for a bit of quiet time "I think you need some quiet time to take a nap." he whispered softly.

When his son was safely in his cot, Gene ran downstairs to the hallway rotary telephone and dialled on the phone.

"Sammy boy? I really need you." sending an emergency request for his to be Detective Inspector.

Within minutes DI Sam Tyler reported to the Hunts in his blue Rover P6 2000 V8 as if he was an ambulance driver. He'd left Salford and Manchester Police asking DC Chris Skelton to cover his caseloads as he could hear Gary's reverberated screams from upstairs in the nursery pierce through the blue front door. "Okay, brief me in full. What do I need to know?" Gene stated "My baby's just being a pain in the arse, when I said Daddy couldn't give him a Curlywurly until he ate a few spoons of his lunch." summoning Sam Tyler upstairs, he became stunned by the mess in his Guv's bedroom. "Gary, what's going on?" He picked the seven year old baby carefully up by his underarms as Sam approached the screaming toddler, he was good at talking desperate criminals down from hostage situations using just negotiation and words. Like in a year's time at the Manchester Gazette newspaper headquarters when a crazed ex World War II solider held the editors and Jackie Queen (Gene's feisty newspaper reporter friend) hostage in an office without any air conditioning.

"CURLIES!" shrieked the thwarted seven year old toddler.

Gene could hear his son still shrieking for a Curlywurly request. DI Sam Tyler almost came from the future as he was streets ahead of his other colleagues apart from DCI Gene Hunt, DC Chris Skelton and WPC Annie Cartwright in the predecessor of Greater Manchester Police. Gene could only watch through the doorframe as Sam sat down on the bed with little Gary on his lap, the tiny boy still cried endlessly until DI Sam Tyler rocked him back and forth; patiently waiting for the shrieking to die down into wretched sobs. "Gary, sweetie. Talk to your uncle Sammy. Use words, tell me what's the matter?" he gently eased.

"Ma-ma-ma!" little Gary gasped out reaching out for DI Sam Tyler from his cot.

"What about mummy?"

"Kids... m- more words..."

"Kids has mamas..."

"The other children have their mummy? Well that's alright, Gary. Don't feel jealous of them just because they have something you can't get. Be a happy little boy, know why? Because you have DCI Gene Hunt as your daddy. He loves you to heaven and earth; so, so much."

"Dada, bad big boy!" exclaimed little Gary.

"No, Daddy's not bad. Don't say that darling."

"He... t-old... me..."

"Well how about I talk to Daddy about that, okay? Did it make you scared? Sad?"

"Yes, yes..."

"Let uncle Sammy tell you something. Daddy's one of the greatest men out there. Do you like the doctor Prose? Well Daddy is even better than him, he always gets results when collaring criminals though I don't necessarily agree with his methods. Daddy loves you with everything that he is, alright? You'll understand that someday." reassured the Detective Inspector.

"Why- W-h-at angry, mrksaqhijyc?"

"What did you say, sweetie?" asked Sam Tyler.

"Why dada are angry with me?" answered Gary Hunt uncertainly.

"No, no, no... you've got the wrong idea, he's not angry with you. Daddy's angry with himself, and he shouldn't be. But he is. It hurts him - he gets owies inside because his childhood was dodgy. You know when you get a boo-boo? What does Daddy to make it all better?" prompted Detective Inspector Sam Tyler.

"Dada, make bandage and kiss it." pointing to his father's new partner.

"That's right, Gary! Daddy puts a bandage on your boo-boo and he kisses it to make it all better. Sometimes you have to do that for him, okay? He needs you. But show him your love and that you care about him. It will make things better."

"Where is mama?" asked Gary Hunt.

Sam looked up to his tearful Guv. Gene sat down with the pair and picked up the wedding photograph. "See this picture?" DI Tyler asked the toddler boy. "Do you know who that is? Who is that?" beaming into a sunny smile. He pointed to a teenage Gene. "Dada!" Gary giggled, hiccupping from his tears "That's right, Gary! That lady right there is Mummy."

"Mama?"

"But your mummy is immortal inside a picture. The other kids have their mummies with them, but you have a special version. Because pictures can live inside frames, staying with you all the time. You can think of her to the park, at the playgroup and sleep sweet dreams of her." Sam tells the little seven year old and cheers him up finally.

DCI Gene Hunt wiped his face with a handkerchief. How did DI Sam Tyler know how to prevent an autism meltdown? Feeling slightly jealous of his Detective Inspector but majorly grateful, he stroked Gary's hair "Is that why you were so upset today?" he asked with a strained high pitched voice. "And you didn't know how to tell me?" Gary looked up to him and gazed looking at his face. "Didn't know how to say?" the Detective Chief Inspector admitted. Gene Hunt leaned forwards pulling his child into a big hug. Gary clung on to him tightly. "Now Gary, say you're sorry to Daddy." DI Sam Tyler encouraged. "When you make a mess, you say sorry and help tidy up." Gary pulled back a bit "I sorry Dada." he whimpered sheepishly as Gene squeezed his tiny hands. "Daddy's sorry too, Gary." The little boy slid off his father's lap wordlessly to pick up each of the pairs of loafer shoes he'd threw, lining them up perfectly back in the shoe rack inside the large brown wardrobe.

"It's all right, Guv. The MENCAP autism playgroup may tell you about the tantrums and teach you how to prevent it, but every case of the spectrum is different and when that moment hits; it's just parent or caregiver and child," said Detective Inspector Sam Tyler "Don't beat yourself up, you'll get better at this. It's okay to ask for help; even though there is lots of stigma against autism."

"I said some horrible things to my baby..." admitted DCI Gene Hunt when he got caught up in his child's tantrums.

"Guv, you don't know what your Gary was saying in his secret baby talk; he could have been overwhelmed." Sam continued the dialogue "Even daddies make mistakes they're not proud to admit. Your baby will be alright, he loves you." as Gary pretends to play doctors and nurses with his father, remembering about having his owies made better.

DCI Gene Hunt went into the garish 70s kitchen to clear up the abandoned baby food and just maybe give Gary a Cadbury's Curlywurly.

Gary happily accepted the chocolate offer as his father went to wash up patterned dishes lain inside the kitchen sink.

The pair stuck by each other for a long time until it was Gary's bedtime - that was the only time Gene broke apart from his little boy.


	5. The Terrifying Public Information Films

**Chapter five is short as it takes place in Manchester and Salford Police 'A' Division's CID inside DCI Gene Hunt's partition office as some more explanation is required; WPC Annie Cartwright and DC Chris Skelton just couldn't wait to meet their Guv's little boy with autism. I consider my fans opinions - drop me a PM if there's anything I can improve on or you want to leave your interpretation of this fan fiction written Life on Mars UK storyline. I hope you'll love this next chapter, if this is still capturing your writers brains and interest!**

* * *

June 1972 - Gene hurried to the office double doors, the moment he could see WPC Annie Cartwright through the window - "Come in," he asked to the Woman's Police Constable as he couldn't leave the seven year old alone or out of his sight for even a minute; tearing the partition door open. "Annie, this is my little son Gary Hunt!" he greeted the long hazel brown haired plonk wearing her uniform and a black handbag containing a police radio. "Is your son behaving himself, still?" carrying a plate of Bourbons and a mug for the Guv.

"Yes he's just watching Play School, I don't mind using a bit of children's telly to distract him. He takes delight of the fact pencil necks leaving Daddy boring old paperwork as an excuse to have a Curlywurly and banana milk from the canteen; in front of the television." as Gene's baby boy was only allowed to eat at the table or in highchairs on normal rules.

Detective Constable Chris Skelton was instantly fascinated "Sounds like a good little boy! Where is the kid?"

DCI Gene Hunt led DC Chris Skelton and WPC Annie Cartwright to the red leather double sofa that occasionally doubled up as a temporary filing cabinet, where Gary was given his nap, buried underneath his soft Magic Roundabout blanket and favourite toys beside him. Chris approached his Guv's son gently, kneeling down to be at his level "Hello, little Gary. What's all this then?" The boy didn't look Chris Skelton in the eye (he never did with anyone except his father) but he did smile. "All my toys." he replied.

"Did you have a nice time at the playground?" WPC Annie Cartwright encouraged, Gary was giggling and hiding his face under the blanket. "Dada and me played on the swings!" he explained excitedly, but Gary Hunt's interpretation was basic at best. "You really are a superhero in disguise! You know what all superheroes need? A cape!" as DC Chris Skelton found Gene's son a _Batman_ costume. WPC Annie Cartwright sparkled "You're just like Batman!" in her youthful vigour. DCI Gene Hunt laughed as his esteemed Detective Inspector lied on his back on the floor holding Gary up using his arms and legs as Gary spreads out his own arms to give the comical effect motion of pretending to fly.

DI Sam Tyler settled Gary into Gene's leather office chair, giving him some pink wafers that he'd grown to love. There were other obsessions two years later, some stood out more than others, for example he must take three of his Corgi or Matchbox cars; liked all sorts of toys particularly toy cash registers or plastic dolls, he absolutely must sleep with his Magic Roundabout blanket - no exceptions, Gene had to stay with him until Gary fell asleep during naps and bedtime.

It gave Gary Hunt some stability in the confusing world. The two adults went to the coffee machine for refills. They talked and caught up with each other, enjoying the new found dimension to their partnership in CID and Gene had a break from caring for his son Gary.

"I've got to tell you," Sam said as he sipped his Coco Cola Tab "I love spending time with Gary, he's such a sweet little kid underneath all the psychiatric problems associated with having autism - there's a really big heart."

"Yeah, he's a good Daddy's boy." DCI Gene Hunt replied, smiling into his yellow mug.

The happy light hearted mood was broken abruptly by a loud shriek. Both males ran to Gary's aid immediately wondering what could be upsetting or hurting him so much. The boy was in the television room pointing wildly and staring transfixed. "Dada, make gone!" It was a public information film on Children and Matches never Mix. There was a close-up of birthday party cake. The children leave the party-table and run screaming and shouting to some toys. They run riot and pull things about. The mothers sign and sit at another table and gossip and drink tea. The children pull pieces of material. A little girl finds a box of matches and lights one. "Children and matches don't mix; keep them out of children's reach." Fire in the middle of the room. Children scream. The mothers stamp it out and one mother kneels and shakes a child who is wearing a policeman's helmet. Gary screamed as if a murderer or stranger was in front of him. He lifted his hands up attempting to find a solution to what he was experiencing. Gene ran quickly to the wood grained television and pressed a button to change the channel from this to a cartoon on ITV. DI Sam Tyler asked Gary "What's the matter, darling?" curious as to why this Public Information Film upset Gene's son so much. Sam tried to ensure the boy wasn't further affected by his traumatic viewing. "Bad... very scary kids..." Gary Hunt explained in normal English. DCI Gene Hunt stroked his son's soft feathery hair gently "It's all gone now, Gary. You're safe." he murmured. This time he looked at his cheese Detective Inspector "It's something about that public information film which comes on - the one about the birthday party in which a little girl finds a box of matches and ignites it. My Gary absolutely hates it. He'll scream horrifically when it comes on and even after I turn it off or it ends; my poor little boy just keeps shaking and crying; I tried asking him why he finds it terrifying, he knew the kids were scary. I asked Margaret at his autism playgroup what she thought and suggested that he might be afraid of the film's kids running riot - that they look dangerous or their behaviour's distorted to him, compared to grown ups. But it's every time, I swear Doris." DI Sam Tyler nodded understandably as autism caused Gary to have hypersensitive ideas which impacted on his sense of fear and danger directly.

To take his mind of the frightening Public Information Film, he was playing with a toy Ford Cortina MkIII GXL that looked remarkably similar to his father Gene's one with a black vinyl roof effect before asking if he could sit in DCI Gene Hunt's chair to play at being a detective. He was tired out with no doubts, "How about we go and lay down for a nap, Gary?" Gene suggested lifting his baby son off the floor "No nappy..." Gary yawned, he wasn't in the mood to fight it though. DCI Gene Hunt smiled "I'll be right back Samantha, just have to put Gary down," he said. Gene laid Gary into a soft playpen. "Dada, stay." he begged sleepily, outstretching his little hands. Gene smiled as Gary's fingers wrapped around his hand to hold on to as he fell asleep.

It took several minutes to get Gary to stay asleep, after which DCI Gene Hunt slipped quietly to the main CID room meeting a smirking DI Sam Tyler, lifting his brow, he put an arm round his taller Guv "You're a good daddy to him, Gene." he explained simply "I don't know anyone else that could have your patience and strength as a police officer and parent."


	6. Crime Scenes and Fun for Gary Hunt

**I would like to keep things moving; so here's chapter six of BBC Life on Mars UK "Autism Changes" and this is when DCI Gene Hunt gets called out to a crime scene taking his autistic son Gary with him, any of it look familiar to you in episode 1 of series 2 and the first series of Ashes to Ashes? Here we go!**

* * *

February 1973 - Gene set out the little blue trainers on to the floor beside his dining table in the kitchen. "Oi! Gary, come to Daddy and let him put your shoes on!" he called to his nearly eight year old son. Gary was as usual running riot, it was a little too quiet which Gene got suspicious about "Dada, no car!" Gary demanded as little feet thundered into the kitchen, swinging them around towards his father, Gene smiled tiredly "Keep still for Daddy, let me put your shoes on nicely." DCI Gene Hunt knelt down in front of his son; wondering if he'll be late for work. "I'll tell you what," he offered "If you try to behave yourself at the crime scene; Daddy's needed at, I'll give you a new Corgi car, alright?" A light bulb switched on in Gary's brain, he sat upright and nodded excitedly "Daddy show me thingy scene! Brrrm." he excitedly requested making car engine noises.

Gary said "Ready!" when he noticed his nearly thirty year old father pick up his beige camel coat, put it on and slipped his hand around little son Gary's "Good boy, Gary." as the pair walked to the Ford Cortina MkIII GXL waiting for them. The little spitting mirror image of Gene held his head just slightly as he sat in his _Britax_ child seat, having to be buckled in by an adult because he wasn't capable of operating seatbelts himself. But Gary was okay with that since he didn't know any different.

Once they got to the scene of crime, Gene was getting his team to nail down whose finger prints were on the _Draper_ branded hammer "I want a match on this set of prints within two days and run prints past Scotty Yard, or else!" he commanded in his usual brash swagger with Detective Sergeant Ray Carling and his friends moaned and groaned at the task these hard nosed politically incorrect men were assigned with one PC Mallows sniggering. "Now what do we do when seeing a piece of evidence on the ground?" asked DI Sam Tyler "Wait for Forensics, dust for prints and cordon off the crime scene," the uniformed officers recited the mantra off by heart wearing turquoise and pink washing gloves, as latex material ones were still only reserved for hospitals "In a straight line, in an orderly line," when some jostled to see who would be the victor in their lessons on forensic based evidence. At least Gary hadn't become unsettled.

Gene had to keep a beady eye on his son. "Stay close to Daddy when you play, alright?" he reminded as tiny Gary ran around the metallic pink Ford Cortina MkIII GXL relishing in a game of cops and robbers with some kids who were kicked out of the house until tea time from 4:00 to 5:30 pm beckons, shrieking joyfully. The MENCAP autism support playgroup has enhanced Gary's social skills, was always excited to see the other kids there. Although it hadn't tested his playfulness with strangers, DCI Gene Hunt wanted to keep a close eye in case any disputes happened.

"Are you having fun?" laughed Gene smiling sat in the driving seat of his Cortina as he just answered WPC Phyllis Dobbs on the radio, Gary nodded.

"Can I ride one of those Chopper bikes, belonging to kids I played -ed with?"

"Where?" asked Gene as Gary pointed out the chopper bikes lain on the evergreen freshly mown grass. "Ah, yes the toy bikes that are just like Daddy's Ford."

"Dada?" awaiting a response.

"I know, I know! Daddy's just protective of you and wants to make sure you're safe."

"I go vroom, vroom now?"

"Yeah of course, go ahead! Daddy's watching, don't talk to any strangers. Go there, but wait until I come to collect you. You scream as loud as you go, if anything naughty happens." DCI Gene Hunt reminded nearly eight year old Gary of his 'Safe Playing Out' rules.

On the ride back to Salford and Manchester Police, Gene was deep in thought, "we probably should get going." A sleepy little voice came from the rear seating area "Dada?" called out Gary Hunt, Gene snapped out of his trance looking in the rear view mirror at his son, who was laying in his child car seat; rubbing his eyes and yawning in need of a nap. "Yes, darling?" asked the Detective Chief Inspector feeling happier just by checking on Gary. "I make new friends and toys to play. Can I tell Miss. Margaret, what I did today?" tears of joy, pride and admiration for his son's persistence as it was unmistakably pure Gene. "Of course, you can." answered the single parent father and police officer "She's going to be so happy about your accomplishments in playing and socialising with other children!" chirped DCI Gene Hunt.

"Dada?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you!"


	7. Creative Painting Activity Day at MENCAP

**This next chapter seven takes place at the MENCAP autism support playgroup, which is still held in the very same building two years ago as it became redeveloped as the headquarters for Greater Manchester MENCAP - I plan for this one to be really fantastic with lots of creative painting going on and a surprise at the end. Hope you enjoy and like this!**

* * *

At the revamped MENCAP building in which their autism support playgroup is held, Margaret Bannister addressed the class differently in order to teach her clients that some change can bring really nice surprises. Instead of letting the children go off to the toys and interact, she had parents or carers keep them on their laps or seated beside them. The week before she encouraged adult family members to attend a session, however it was a bit ill thought out with certain people making nasty bitchy comments designed to shame whoever's looking after the autistic clients. Gene was the only single parent father in the room, of course people would immediately judge him due to it being the Seventies and single parenting was still this unspoken taboo; but the DCI would just squeeze Gary a bit tighter, and that helped make the spiteful gossip easier to manage. "Alright, everybody," she greeted cheerful as ever. "Today we're going to have a creative painting day. The parents/carers and children will all enter the same room - everyone gets an individual easel each. We're going to paint together and then discuss what our pictures mean!" Mrs Bannister continued "Dr. Landon Prose will be observing and sometimes he'll ask the children/young persons questions; but the whole purpose of this activity is to encourage the boys and girls creativity. It'll be a wonderful bonding experience between you and your children. Now if you please follow me into the Art Room..."

The families all rose and began to file into the art room. The DCI thought what would soft nancy, sissy, gender bending painting do for his child? Gene clutched little Gary's hand as they made their way down the corridor. Gary had developed a new symptom - he was fascinated by certain objects like the toy rabbit sat on a shelf next to battered shape sorters, he was intrigued by its softness as he picked it up with his free hand. It would be very hard for him to understand that the toy rabbit doesn't belong to him until playgroup finished for the day. The best prescription was to just allow Gary to play with it as he did his paintings with constant access in mind, he was holding father Gene with his free hand.

When they all got into the Art Room, Margaret Bannister placed them in front of easels. "Now then let's sit down and then you can dip your paintbrushes into the plastic colour coded jars before you on the tray. Remember to frequently ask your child what they're thinking about doing. But don't smother or oppress them like we talked about last time. Just let it be free and open." The former nursery teacher turned special school consultant advised. Gene looked down at the primary colours of red, blue, yellow and green paint jars resting in his tray. Same with Gary's. "Want me to help you paint?" Gene asked his son who was too busy cuddling the Manchester MENCAP's toy rabbit to pay attention to his surroundings. So he reached over, put a paintbrush in the red pot and one in Gary's hand. "Watch how Daddy does it - look," informed DCI Gene Hunt waiting for his son's eyes and doing a Makaton gesture of 'look' to help Gary pay attention upon his easel.

Gary stared for a little while as he possibly thought painting's too difficult to mimic - until Gene gently guided his brush into the blue jar, moved it up to the paper and made a line with his son's own hand. "Dada, no!" Gary protested when he saw the mark. Gene retracted his arm, he didn't mean to offend his own son or degrade him - questioned 'Am I a bad parent?' until his brain said 'Stop being a bloody poofter and help your boy!' Gary curled his lip "Not like Dada's," he said. Suddenly it came to DCI Gene Hunt: Gary didn't like because it was blue and his father's was red. "Here, Gary. Just use a different colour. Watch - I'll add blue too." the young father gently advised. He made another moon shape, amazingly Gary copied his Detective Chief Inspector dad. "You did it! Good boy!" he praised "Now keep going and adding more colours just like Daddy showed you." Gary giggled rubbing the toy rabbit against his cheeks as he splattered paint all over the page.

A voice leant in close to Gene's ear, it was Dr. Landon Prose from behind "Well done, Mr. Hunt, teaching by example is a very good resource. Excellent control." Gene grinned back as the Autism Spectrum Disorder specialist doctor made his way around the second row of budding artists, offering praise and suggestions to the parents or carers who needed to help their children. Gary shrieked with delight as he flicked the paintbrush at his paper, sending little splatters of blue everywhere, babbling away. Gene laughed "What are you doing, you cheeky rascal?" Gary sighed "Gary make house and flowers," the boy answered. Honestly it looked nothing like a house as there no geometrical structure to suggest it was a square with a triangle roof, rectangle windows and a door. There no form indicating shapes were being painted on the paper. "Dada, you is painted?" a little voice asked, Gene looked up. "Colour!" he commented on, but the DCI wasn't sure whether Gary was requesting to have more colours mixed into their secondary form or whether it was too bright visually. Gary for the first time had a two way conversation with his father.

Only one child had to be removed by parents or carers from the Art Room for throwing a fit. It was time to start packing up from the creative painting session. "Now children, come over and show your artwork." Margaret called, bringing all of the children up to the front of the room. "I would like for you to look at your parents or carers and say what you've painted - right here in front of everyone. Can you all do that for adults? If you don't to; just say 'no thank you' or shake your head 'no' okay? Let's have Frank go first. Frank, can you say what you've painted?" Mrs. Bannister sweetly asked, kneeling down besides a taller redhead. The boy looked around the Art Room for a bit, only to answer hesitantly "Dog." all of the parents and carers clapped with a round of applause, there was some geometric shapes that matched a cartoon dog's body. Unlike Gary "Now Jonah, what did you paint?" Margaret went on in her dialogue.

"Farm!" clearly Jonah was a little more able than Gary, a little farther less on the spectrum.

"Bridget? Can you tell us what you painted?"

"Bee!" a female equivalent of Jonah's presentation of the autism spectrum disorder's three triads.

"Very good. Mark?"

"Mark, m-ake an a-pple." This boy had stammering in his speech patterns, possibly dyspraxia comorbid with autism.

"Excellent!" One boy Brian refused to share his art work as he felt it was private "No," what would then be known as High Functioning Autism and Asperger's Syndrome in later years.

"I can understand why you want to keep your art private. How about you Gary?"

DCI Gene Hunt subconsciously drew in a deep breath, running through all the possible scenarios - he prayed that his baby boy would be brave or at least not kick off.

"House, flowers." Gary said; it wasn't the worst painting - there were other people with autism that didn't know how to form geometric shapes and lines from objects.

Gary Hunt was stamping his feet and laughed manically - something he always did to show his excitement, he ran back to his father and was captured into a loving big hug. "Want to go home?" the DCI asked lifting Gary up to his eye line. "House." he answered automatically. Gene walked out of Manchester MENCAP with the other parents and carers to the car park; chock a block with Granadas, Cortinas, Avengers, Beetles, Victors, Vivas, Allegros and Maxis in various colours.

Back home, Gene was preparing dinner and set a pair of baby cutlery for Gary, he could hear a hungry scream run through the tranquil house. Immediately he ran to meet his son's needs when his table setting was interrupted by frustrated wailing. Gene knelt beside his very young son "What's wrong, Gary?" he asked worriedly.

Gary Hunt continued crying as if his heart was devastatingly broken and babbled, normally DCI Gene Hunt would have corrected him and speak in the English language; but decided to just let it go "Okay, alright Gary... it's nothing to cry about. Come on, let's go to the table and have some tea." He took the little boy's hand to lead him to the kitchen. Gene set Gary at the table with fish fingers, chips, runner beans and garden peas. "Good boy, for eating all your tea up!" the Detective Chief Inspector praised as he set his son down from the chair.


	8. Sainsbury's Supermarket Bedlam

**Here's chapter eight of BBC Life on Mars UK - "Autism Changes" in which it'll be an explosive trip to the supermarket, where Gary Hunt decides to cause bedlam for his single police officer parent DCI Gene Hunt as promised, hope you're enjoying it! Thoughts? Let me know all about them.**

* * *

January 1974 - DCI Gene Hunt glanced over his shopping list again. "Come on, Gary!" he called out to his son, who was admiring the Honey Monster cartoon character for Honey Puffs as the advert on television had an attention grabbing slogan of "Tell them about the honey, Mummy." as the mascot in question wore a blue Honey Puffs tee-shirt in blue with red puff cloud text, was gianormously yellow and fluffy living on nothing but Honey Puffs; just in the cereal aisle of J. Sainburys. Food grocery shopping was at best troublesome with little Gary Hunt as he'd get distracted easily and behave atrociously - even if it was a sweet old biddy telling Gene's son how cute he was. "Dada!" he shouted aloud still viewing the friendly Honey Puffs cartoon monster. "Get it!" Gary was tugging at his father's brown camel coat, Gene smiled "No, no. We have Ready Brek at home; this Honey Puffs cereal would only make you hyped up. Daddy needs to get some healthy fruit now - do you want to choose it with me and pick some out?"

The tantrum over this Honey Puffs cereal is commencing in three, two, one; action packed like those television detective shows featuring gruff coppers on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Want this!" demanded Gary Hunt, a tantrum not far off coming.

"No, because we have Ready Brek which is much better for you." encouraged DCI Gene Hunt who started to take his son's mind off the offending breakfast cereal article.

"Please?!" Gary started the tantrum and was pestering his Detective Chief Inspector father.

"Nope. Come on let's go and get some strawberries." Gene smiled.

"Dada!" Gary begins screaming in front of horrified customers pushing their trolleys jam packed with the weekly shop.

"Don't make me pick you up and carry you around like a baby." reminding his son of the possible consequence if he continued his tantrum.

Gene shifted the basket to his right hand so he could grab Gary's little hand. "Good boy! Well done for listening to Daddy." he praised. DCI Gene Hunt had been encouraged by Dr. Landon Prose and Margaret Bannister to put Gary in one of the local Manchurian special schools or home educate him, since none of the mainstream schools wanted him since starting aged five in 1970; but failed miserably after transitioning to traditional formal based lessons from Year 1 onwards. Since then he never allowed his son to enter any mainstream schools and couldn't let go of his little boy. So even though Gary was still at nursery to Reception age educationally, he got praised for any good behaviour and things that went right. Gary is also given a way to handle misdeeds and reflect on the consequences as best a 3-4 year old developmentally can do.

There was a sample table featuring the latest 1970s recipes by J. Sainsbury such as chilli con carne, herby toad in the hole, paprika-infused beef casserole, traditional creamy mushroom casserole, trifle and tiramisu slices to name a few examples including a petit pois and crunchy radish prawn cocktail starter. The woman J. Sainburys employee at the table asked "Sample?" Gene approached her "Sorry," he apologised softly "Gary, has autism and there's a child in the MENCAP autism support playgroup I take my son to; who has exactly the same name as my esteemed Detective Inspector: Samuel." He wondered if there were feet hidden underneath the bright orange tablecloth as Gary was jumping up to see what was on the sample table. "These are our new recipes, perhaps your little one would like to try a few?" she asked. DCI Gene Hunt knelt down to his son's level to hear him "What's the matter, baby? You want to try those?"

The woman eagerly poured the herby toad in the hole on a little dish, grinning from ear to ear about the Sainbury supermarket's new recipes. "Take a small bite Gary, let Daddy hold the spoon and dish." He excitedly opened his mouth wide "Yum-yum!" he cried out clapping his hands in delight. Gene raised his eyebrows "He loves it, that's a first." he murmured.

"Yum, more please!" Gary squealed in excitement.

"You want more? 'Ere have another spoonful. Gary eat it politely. Good boy!" said DCI Gene Hunt.

"Mmmmmmm."

"I'm glad you love this, baby. Does it taste good?" Gene replied to his nearly nine year old son.

"Dada, make at home!" babbled Gary Hunt.

Upon hearing Gary's request for herby toad in the hole, DCI Gene Hunt's eyes widened "Sure, Gary darling I'll make it for you at home! Do you have a recipe for this, love? It's kind of a breakthrough." The woman handed Gene a recipe card as he bent down to his son's level to see what Gary really knew about manners "Gary sweetheart, remember your manners." he reminded as Gary nearly looked at her face saying "Thanks, for herby sausage toads!" imperfect, but nearly close.

Gary was humming the newest David Bowie song "Cha-changes" as he carefully selected a punnet of strawberries. Gene picked two apples (because his son Gary screamed and shrieked for joy at apple slices when also made into apple crumble for pudding). But the Detective Chief Inspector was too late, since Gary was already taking a juicy, sticky bite out of a strawberry they hadn't paid for. "No-no!" Gene scolded, saving the stem of the red strawberry from an eager munching jaw, so he could explain it to the checkout lady. Sighing but grinning DCI Gene Hunt headed for another aisle with his baby boy.

Gary pointed to the large box of bourbons. Thankfully his diet grew wider as time went on "Brown bourbs!" said DCI Gene Hunt's son mispronouncing bourbons as he tugged on his dad's camel coat sleeve earning a vigorous nod. "Want to try Bourbons? Daddy has them at the police station." answered Gene as he took the box down from the shelf above, he noticed a pair of big blue eyes fixed upon him "I carry?" Gary squeaked. DCI Gene Hunt smiled again "Sure, you can carry the box, but don't open it alright?"

"Okay." replied Gary Hunt who was the spitting image of Gene Hunt.

"I mean it." warned his police officer father.

"Yes, dada." as Gary nodded back to answer.

DCI Gene Hunt never planned for ex missus Michaela Hunt to be in the J. Sainbury's supermarket at the same time and meeting Gary.

Gary asked her sweetly, not knowing Gene behind him was furious "She doesn't want you, Gary." he hissed at his ex "Remember what she said about you? How Michaela didn't want an autistic child? It was my brother Stuart's fault for your being born? We didn't leave, but mummy just walked out on us!"

Why was it all right for ex Michaela Hunt to get pregnant with another male, is beyond Gene as he is always faithful to his significant others.

"Where are you getting this from?" she got angry seeing red "I'm not around anymore, I won't ever be Gary. I'm happy with my new husband; one that doesn't bow to the demands of his police colleagues, have a new home and have children that I actually can be happy with!" she spat out in poison.

The boy was visibly disturbed as it broke DCI Gene Hunt's heart seeing Gary realise he wasn't wanted by his mother. Gene took his son into his own arms as he saw Gary flinch at his mother approaching him "He doesn't have to say hello to you." Gene said coldly "You are a useless waste of space who sleeps with anything that moves in Manchester and never gave us a good reason for walking out!" as Michaela ignored the sounds of Gary crying although he didn't understand the depth of the situation.

Gary Hunt rarely cried out of sadness anymore; he'd throw things around, get angry, hit and scream out of frustration like a two year old toddler until crying his little soft blue eyes out.

DCI Gene Hunt squeezed him tighter "I hate you!" shouted nearly nine year old Gary Hunt aimed directly at his deadbeat mother and she scarped in shock stunned. More and more shoppers were beginning to start peeking around the aisles of J. Sainsburys as to why a child was screaming like that, when Gary suddenly let out a loud sobbing sound. Gene let out an accosting glare before running after his baby boy, he finally caught up with Gary in the bakery aisle clinging on to his mini-me and just letting him cry in the ultimate despair. "It's alright, baby as we won't ever see Mummy again. I'm sorry you're feeling sad, Gary. Daddy loves you very much, always remember that." in a soothing tone of voice. Gary cried, tears cascading for a long time in his father's arms within the safety of Gene's Ford Cortina MkIII GXL in metallic pink, away from the public glare in the J. Sainburys supermarket as everyone else returned to whatever grocery shopping they were doing after Gene paid for everything and returned the basket to its rack.

Poor Gary couldn't pull himself together since he was hurting. DCI Gene Hunt let him take his time with things and fed him a bit of his Cadbury's Curlywurly to dry his tears. It was almost eerily silent on the ride back home in the Cortina.

Gene sat down on the sofa as he let Gary go to his nursery for a while - that was normal if he felt like breaking his heart in private, it was disgusting behaviour from his ex-wife Michaela Hunt especially when the child involved couldn't understand abstract concepts.


	9. Dog Free House and No Mongrels Allowed

**Had to think about what sets DCI Gene Hunt's autistic son from other children in Life on Mars UK "Autism Changes" fan-fiction written story line to make chapter nine, something really excellent. Please do enjoy!**

* * *

May 1974 - DCI Gene Hunt sipped his cup of coffee as he watched Gary play around on the floor with his favourite toys, sometimes speaking in his secret babyish language and don't forget the occasion screaming for something. DI Sam Tyler sat across from The Guv as he also observed the child's behaviour. "Do you ever wonder what Gary thinks about?" the dark black haired Detective Inspector questioned aloud. Gene frowned "I think my Gary's thoughts are all jumbled together like colour television reception gone haywire." he answered. Gary toddled over to the table where they sat and climbed on to a pine dining table chair. Gary babbled to himself as he was playing traffic jams with his Corgi and Matchbox cars in various lines. Gene averted his eyes from this - he hated seeing toy cars parked in different straight lines on the wooden pine table. It was the one thing that annoyed DCI Gene Hunt the most, as it reminded him constantly that his little son wasn't like other children, that even though he saw his baby boy as a pride and joy like his beloved Ford Cortina MkIII GXL; Gary wasn't as he was functioning like a child half his age.

Sam Tyler broke into a smile, but DCI Gene Hunt sighed "Drives me crazy," he muttered under his breath "and I'm the Sheriff of Manchester."

Satisfied with his miniature traffic jams, so he jumped down from his seat and ran screeching towards his almost thirty year old father when Detective Sergeant Ray Carling was on the phone about the suggestion of a puppy as the DS's drunken impulsive purchase.

The rotary dial telephone ringed, Gene picked up the receiver as he dreaded the conversation which was about to follow.

"Will your son stop being a freaky fucktard?!" the most politically incorrect Detective Sergeant aggressively asked his Guv over the blue receiver.

"Ray, my Gary can't help it; for God's sake." intoned Gene trying to defend his baby boy from the onslaught of bad tempered colleague DS Ray Carling.

"Maybe he needs a pet puppy; I got it from a landlord mate who runs the Trafford Arms for half price than what I'd get from a kosher breeder." the curly haired moustached man suggested as his boss DCI Gene Hunt balked at the idea and was dead firm on being set against a lively puppy around his house.

DCI Gene Hunt furrowed his brow suspiciously "Ohhh, no. I'm not bringing a mischievous mongrel dog into this house. I've already got more than enough on my fry up."

"Are you thinking straight, Guv?!" he moaned "He'll love my drunken impulse purchase, something that can shoo all our villains at home!" DS Ray Carling was almost smirking over the phone, Gene needed to state the reasons why he is against a dog for little Gary; especially one with questionable origins.

"If I let my baby boy get a dog; he won't walk it by himself, not feed it and never clean up after the mutt. It'll be my responsibility!" stated Gene over the phone firmly.

"What's wrong with that?" sniggered and laughed DS Carling.

"What's wrong with that?! Ray, I've a small child that acts like a 3-5 year old toddler to clean up after and feed. I don't want a two caret mongrel to double my workload and triple the mess! You know I have enough on my plate." he scolded his colleague "I get child support from my ex missus. Granted yes I do get a good salary as a DCI, but why would I waste my gold cash on vet bills? When that gets me a good top of the range Ford executive saloon every few years."

"Your precious baby is getting older," Detective Sergeant Ray Carling added in for insult "He'll want to see how things happen and get ideas into his mind."

"I can't believe my thirty two year old Dog Shit colleague is trying to convince moi to get a mongrel puppy, when my nearly nine year old son doesn't have a clue, no way, not happening; comprenhendo?!" barked DCI Gene Hunt as he slammed the blue receiver down on the cradle.


	10. Gary is Demanding his Only Parent

**A little chapter ten has arrived as BBC Life on Mars UK "Autism Changes" is building up to more progress, since this caper in DCI Gene Hunt's office will make you Philip Glenister fans smile over his ultra ego. Gary Hunt is demanding of parental attention when his father is busy trying to catch up over the boring paperwork that the dull pencil necks from upstairs have left The Guv.**

* * *

April 1975 - DCI Gene Hunt gathered up some papers quietly, moving through his office on tiptoes so that he wouldn't wake his napping baby beside his desk. He silently opened a filing cabinet, Gene and Gary were living quite nicely from his police wages, ex missus Michaela's child support contributions - which was agreed when they divorced over nearly ten years ago in 1965. Gary was still her biological child after all. In addition to her monthly deductions, Gene was generating quite a substantial income and ranked in high pound Sterling. They could live comfortably and yet still have money for unexpected purchases (like a new Chopper style bicycle for Gary). Recently though, at nearly ten years old Gary was learning how to play independently. He became obsessed with certain toys and never put them down; but Gary was still demanding of his father's attention even though the new favourite toys kept Gary busy for hours.

The Guv set to putting a dent into the paperwork, he hated admitting this was Detective Inspector Sam Tyler's department: record keeping as he'd try his darnedest to fill in the blacks, tick the boxes and write in the I's except E's after C.

So where was little Gary Hunt now? Before Gene went to check on his son.

DCI Gene Hunt didn't know how long he'd been working for, but after a while he heard a tiny sound coming towards him as a tiny body wanting to climb on his lap inside the black leather chair "Gary?" the man asked quietly as Gary's sandy blonde hair was complete bed style; clearly he had just woken up. But then he swung Gene's briefcase on to the table and set a piece of A4 paper before himself. He grabbed one of his Crayola wax crayons, sleep still clouding his eyes a little, Gary yawned and began colouring scribbles on to the statement sheet. DCI Gene Hunt waited a few moments before speaking to gain his baby son's attention. "Gary, what are the hell y' doing?" he asked as the boy smiled at his handiwork "Write," he answered.

Suddenly it clicked to the Detective Chief Inspector, Gary must have seen dozens of times his father sitting at the oak panelled desk, constantly writing papers, answering the telephone and typewriting reports when he wasn't on the cobbled streets of Manchester in his unashamedly top of the range Ford executive saloon. He knew it as police officer's work.

"That's very good, but why now? Hmm? And you're being naughty for scribbling on Daddy's statements from eyeball witnesses."

"Dada have papers." he replied.

"What? Darling, you know you can't scribble on Daddy's statements. It's for work otherwise the Chief Super would see my head on a pole."

"Gary work like Dada!" he pointed to some manila folders stacked beside him.

Gary was only trying to imitate. DCI Gene Hunt just sat in his black leather chair grinning like a Cheshire cat as weird as the occurrence in front of him is, mimicking something he sees his father do as a Detective Chief Inspector at Greater Manchester Police CID; since the old Salford and Manchester name merged into this during 1974.

Dr. Landon Prose would be so proud of Gary's awesome achievements to hear about this one. Gene completely abandoned his paperwork to watch Gary scribble with the different colours of crayons; silence ensured for a while. The much taller male decides to reward him with a Wagon Wheel and strawberry milk which worked every time for WDC Annie Cartwright whenever it was a rough time at CID and he gets himself a cup of tea. He needed to gather CID in the big main room, so left the office quietly. Gary just looked busy, calmer and focused.

When he returned to his partition office, Gene was shocked to find his little baby boy gone. "Gary?" he called out and darting towards one of the aisle desks, in particular belonging to Detective Inspector Sam Tyler. As he ran, could hear a tiny little voice. "Uncle Sammy?" it asked. Gene eventually found the source.

Gary was on the telephone. How he'd even reached the receiver or know how to dial when Gene's nearly ten year old son wasn't even yet familiar with numbers much like a five or six year old. The youngest senior ranking officer would never know. DCI Gene Hunt seized the phone away from him "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Hello?" he asked into the receiver.

"How can I help with an emergency?" the operator responded. Oh god, every parent's worse nightmare: Gary had just dialled 9-9-9.

"No, this is a false alarm - no emergency. I'm sorry my learning disabled son must have grabbed the phone and called, it was an accident - the Gene Genie promises." she swore he almost winked over the phone.

"Don't get smart with me young man, I can trace this call!"

"Yes, love." muttered Gene to the operator under his breath.

"Very well, just don't let it happen again and keep an eye on him."

"Sir, you could be fined and cut off from this emergency number by British Telecom if a child is using the telephone unsupervised and calls the emergency services, right? Detective Chief Inspector, Mr. Hunt,"

"I'm sorry, love. It won't happen in future." said DCI Gene Hunt to the female operator.

After DCI Gene Hunt hung up, he whirled around to look at Gary. The boy had big blue eyes full of wonderment and surprise. "What did you do?" asked DCI Gene Hunt, his boy nodded. "No. Gary, what did you do? Tell me with your words what you on Earth were thinking; when you picked up the telephone!" he added fuming at the emergency services false alarm.

"Dada make hello phone calls." the nearly ten year old Gary Hunt answered mispronouncing telephone.

"Yeah, but Daddy is doing his job as a DCI. Little boys don't need to do that kind of thing." Gene calmly explained.

"Gary wants to be Guv like Dada." pointing to the coat rack with a camel coat hung up.

"I know sweetheart, but yer can't just dial random numbers on the phone! You need an adult with yer!"

"Gary wants to call Uncle Sammy." he added sadly.

"Baby, I sent Uncle Sammy on a case; so he's working too. We can't phone him right now." he knelt down to Gary's level rubbing his back "Can you promise me you'll never use the phone without Daddy's help again?"

"Gary promises." plucking his nearly thirty two year old father's shoulders; still using second or third person reference.

"Do you understand and mean it?" Gene asked.

"Yes." he replied and nodded his head.

"Good baby, no more telephone." he reassured patting Gary's tiny back gently.

Gene's desk is large and cluttered with papers, files, and various bric-a-brac.

"Daddy would like a little word with you pal in your shell like, Gary? While we're on the subject of rules and no-nos; why did you take my coloured darts out of my office and put it with yer toys?"

"Okay, sorry Dada." he shook his head at being caught for the misdeed.

His interest in American westerns is shown by the movie posters on the wall. These include _High Noon_ and _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly_. _High Noon_ (1952) is a classic western starring Gary Cooper wherein Cooper's character must stand alone against a deadly enemy after having been refused help by the townspeople, a plot that had some meaning for Gene. _The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly_ is a much later (1966) Italian (or "spaghetti") western starring Clint Eastwood and directed by Sergio Leone. The movie is extremely violent and features characters who distrust each other but are forced to co-operate in order to reach their goal (and even survive), a theme used throughout _Life on Mars_ in the wild west of Manchester.

"Can you not do that again? It took Daddy a long time to find them around the house."

The prospect of DCI Gene Hunt firing up the Tardis and shouting: "Daleks, surrender, you are surrounded by armed b******s" is surely too good to be missed as he sees a trailer for Tom Baker's Doctor Who showing snippets of this Saturday's episode coming up.

"Now let Daddy get back to work, alright? No more stealing, definitely no telephone."

Well it almost worked as Gene would find his bric-a-brac hidden around the house - he sat down to find a Matchbox Models of Yesteryear poking him in the cushion. He tucked Gary into his cot and found something in the shape of an manila folder. He looked everywhere in Greater Manchester Police CID for that particular one. DCI Gene Hunt couldn't understand why Gary was into hiding objects around obscure places, but both as a copper and father he knew it needed to stop before his son stuck a knife underneath the toilet seat. But the concept of property never really clicked in Gary's brain, he couldn't be held responsible or blamed for this. Dr. Landon Prose suggested a tally chart, in which if it got to ten tallies; he would a toy for the week as Gary was beginning to learn the concept of bargaining - in the same way normal five to six year old children do. Anytime Gene found things that weren't Gary's he marked the chart with one tally per offence.

It took one set of ten tallies for Gary to realise his Detective Chief Inspector father wasn't kidding.

After not being allowed to ride his Chopper style bicycle for a week, Gary never pinched objects after this and actually enjoyed using it more often.

DCI Gene Hunt never minded his son's quirks, he saw them as an extension but at least he was learning and seeing how things worked in real life; only making Gene more happier.

Gary always sat down across inside his father's office whenever DCI Gene Hunt was not fighting crime on the streets of Manchester like clockwork.


	11. Police Play Date and Homemade Pizzas

**This will be a bridge for chapter eleven of BBC Life on Mars UK's Autism Changes storyline that I'm typing up regularly until I reach the eighteenth chapter. Now kids in a police station? Sounds like trouble. Let me know for any more ideas on PM.**

* * *

 **Stopford House** was a police station of the Greater Manchester Police from the force's conception in 1974. It was also one of the stations of the Manchester and Salford Police in 1973. In the 1970s, DCI Gene Hunt worked at Stopford House in the North West District CID until 1981 when he moves to London (will be explained and revealed in Chapter 18).

August 1975 - Ginny who is Sam's niece bounced a red haired toddler on her hip, telling the other two that were running around with toy cap pistol guns to quieten down or they'd be giving her a headache. DCI Gene Hunt chuckled slightly at her rule setting; DI Sam Tyler was on babysitting duties for his beloved Detective Chief Inspector, fondly known as 'The Guv'; he was gently rocking Gary on his lap, who'd got a little spooked out when playing Cowboys and Indians with Ginny Tyler's children, Robert and Mabel - he cried and needed to be calmed down before returning to the game. Little Gary has always clung close to his DCI father Gene Hunt, relaxing at his or Sam Tyler's sensations of being cradle rocked. Even though he was now almost ten (Gary's birthday is in September), he still acted around five or six. He couldn't help it. Sam reached over and brushed a big finger over the boy's tear tracked cheek to remove the extra wetness.

"Feeling a little better?" DI Sam Tyler softly asked, Gary nodded "Dada," he said.

"Daddy makes you feel better," Sam reminded "He's the best always."

DI Sam Tyler smiled in gratitude to his Detective Chief Inspector mate, placing a soft kiss to Gary's cheek.

Ginny came round to a table in the Greater Manchester Police kitchenette, giving Sam her young uncle an exasperated look that indicated she wanted to him to take over discipline duty for his eight and twelve year old nephews, Robert a boy and Mabel the girl. "Hey, kids? Who wants to make pizza?" he asked immediately catching the attention of all kids. "Yes, yes, yes!" they all shouted in unison including the six year old toddler on Ginny's hip.

DI Sam Tyler shrugged with a smile, leading the kids into the kitchenette, preheating the gas oven for them and directing to ingredients; which were divided into little bowls and worktop surface stations.

Gary Hunt watched with distant fascination, the kids were creating their own pizzas, which for the Seventies were exotic and a real big treat. DCI Gene Hunt would give anything to know what was on his little boy Gary's mind. "Want to go cooking with the other kids, Gary?" he slunk off his father's lap after hesitating.

DCI Gene Hunt and DI Sam Tyler observed smiling at Sam's younger teenage brother Michael who was aged between 13-15 years old being so patient, nurturing, helpful, kind and would become a good father himself in a few years or just shortly.

"Samantha; I'm glad your little brother Michael is like a good teenage father to my Gary, he's been going through a phase of being anti-social." he hesitated.

"Is this new?" enquired the Detective Inspector.

Gene replies "Sort of, he doesn't even go to the playground 'cause of other kids."

Even though Gary enjoyed making his pizza, he was reluctant to eat up. But Michael Tyler stepped in and was more than happy to fulfil Gene Hunt's little boy's care needs by cutting it up into soldiers for him, so it made the new item of food with Italian origins easy to eat.

Gene was thankful towards his Detective Inspector and Sam's younger brother.


	12. The new Ford Executive Saloon Car

**Decided to fit chapter twelve at the Greater Manchester official Ford Specialist Dealer in which DCI Gene Hunt gets his hands on a brand new Ford Cortina Mk3 Two Thousand Executive or Granada Mk1 Ghia, after a few faithful years with the metallic pink GXL he had since late 1971 or early 1972 from release date. In later post 1980, he changes this for a futuristic Ford Granada Mk2 Ghia X to mark his transfer into London's Metropolitan Police CID with his faithful colleagues - except DS Ray Carling.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

July 1976 - DCI Gene Hunt looked in his rear view mirror to see Gary sitting in the rear car seat area, safely encapsulated into his Britax child seat peering out of the window. Gary became a Ford fan just like his nearly thirty three year old father. They were currently on their way to the Greater Manchester official Ford Specialist Dealer for an appointment to collect the newest one, where he passes an old faithful to the Detective Inspector to have - at least it went to a good home where it would stay in nearly new condition, well looked after, history known and Sam often inherited passé top of the tree Fords of Gene's.

No babysitter wanted Gary Hunt on their books stating their parents would go mad at them for looking after a child with mental deficiencies as the teenage girls so bluntly put it. DCI Gene Hunt was doubtful as to how this experience will happen. He made Gary promise to be good although there was no telling as to what would happen with his condition of Autism Spectrum Disorder.

As soon as they got to the Ford Specialist Dealer, DI Sam Tyler already arrived to collect Gene's old faithful 1971-1972 Ford Cortina MkIII GXL in metallic pink, Gene tossed him the keys "Take it from me. She runs like a dream and I know you'll look after her well," annotated the Detective Chief Inspector "The GXL's yours now, Sammy boy." Gene was managing to take on the responsibilities of quietening a young child while simultaneously reading a Ford Cars brochure on the Ford Cortina Mk3 2000 Executive and Granada Mk1 Ghia; he wanted one in either deep metallic purple, sebring red, fizzy lemon yellow, metallic blue, stratos silver, metallic gold or diamond white.

DCI Gene Hunt was balancing Gary on his hip as they went to view the different Fords "Big cars," he babbled looking towards a Ford Granada MkI Ghia with Ronal alloys. Gene is planting a kiss on little Gary's tiny cheek. Unfortunately Gary wriggled to get down as he wanted to view all the blue oval's cars "Remember, you promised to be a good boy for Daddy. Are you going to keep your promise to me?" he gently reminded as Gary giggled and grinned for random reasons.

"Ok, good boy!" Gene praised in that little kid voice "And remember to be respectful," he added in a serious adult tone.

"Yes, Dada!" he replied back running to the coloured play table full of Lego.

"I won't take too long, I'm thinking Cortina MkIII 2000 E or Granada Ghia MkI."

DCI Gene Hunt walked to the front reception desk seeing a Mr. Flantley who took his enquires for a Ford Cortina MkIII Executive or Granada MkI Ghia, he failed to notice the women customers at the indoor sales forecourt gossiping about his situation as a single parent and Gary's autism "That's the one I was telling you about; divorced copper Eugene Hunt." The other glanced to get a good view "How does he even know if that retarded kid's his? Mental age of a five or six year old toddler, the size of a four year old at nearly 11; he ought to be ashamed of his sins!" After the nattering women passed, Gene glanced down at his son as little Gary looked up to him: how could he not be Gene's - they were DNA wise practically the image of Philip Glenister for goodness sake - blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and a skinny little frame that would eventually turn broad and tall when hitting puberty.

If only people knew about Gene Hunt's harsh Lancashire based childhood since his birth in late 1943 or early 1944, the beatings he and Stuart got from their alcoholic father who wouldn't think twice of being handy with his fists; usually involving their mother through the scuffles. Now that was just totally plain nasty, bang out of order and insane of those women to speculate rumours on something of a very personal but private nature. One had history for cupping her mouth to speak to a friend covertly nodding to the Hunts.

DCI Gene Hunt inwardly sighed in annoyance wearing his signature pout; there was no choice but leave his son unattended for the first time in a place where he regularly got his top of the line Ford executive saloon cars from, but this was entirely new to Gary Hunt as late 1971 or early 1972 was entirely a different story altogether - four or five years previously. Gary never reacted well to new situations. He walked the child to the small area of soft garish brown chairs where a vending machine full of crisps and chocolate, a coffee maker with plates of biscuits and jammy doughnuts set on a small table with outdated Ford brochures, magazines, newspapers and tatty colouring books. DCI Gene Hunt sat Gary down with an expectation "Daddy's going to be right back, ok? You sit 'ere being a good boy like we've talked about and wait here for Daddy. Don't leave this spot, understand? And don't even try to get off the chair without a grown up's help. Be a good baby." Gary let out a happy babble in response, Gene could only hope he meant agreeing to the terms and conditions set out.

In all actuality choosing another top range Ford saloon was serious business.

Fifteen minutes in (even though DCI Gene Hunt would pick his first choice of the Cortina Executive or Granada Ghia, as their virtues were explained by the saleswoman), Gary began to panic. It wasn't his fault - he had zero perception of elapsed time. First came the fidgeting, he nervously bounced on the chair suite. Then his breathing quickened; why wasn't his father coming back to get him? Next, the irrational fears. What if Daddy got hurt or kidnapped like the news reporters on the BBC Six O' Clock news talked about? Followed by the tears. Gary knew he had to remain silent - he promised his Detective Chief Inspector father, after all; but he was so agitated and scared; the tears kept flowing like a tap in which he started to shake and tremble in fear. And the grand finale; Gary Hunt felt so lonely and nervous that he was forced into an autistic meltdown calamity complete with screaming, crying, wailing, chucking things, throwing himself on to the floor of Greater Manchester Ford at the indoor sales forecourt. Several Ford salespeople dashed over to see what the problem was. "Dada!" Gary shrieked, holding his little hands out as if asking for his copper father to appear and just hug him. "Dada, make come back!" mispronouncing mate "Please, dada!" he begged went to smashing the plate of jammy doughnuts, crumbled biscuits into billions of crumbs, beating the new Ford Fiesta MkI super mini on display with his hands and feet. The final straw was even daring do, swatting the coffeemaker with his hand.

Except it was filled up with boiling hot water.

Gary Hunt absolutely shrieked in pain. A tall man lifted Gary up by the underneath of his arms, he carried the boy away from customers and salespeople, having grabbed a few ice cubes from the staff room's all in one fridge and freezer unit. He held the ice to the injured, scalding hand, speaking gently to Gary "Daddy's on his way," he said reassuringly. "I went back and got Daddy, he's coming." Sure enough, DCI Gene Hunt and Mr. Flantley hurried up into the customers lounge wide eyed and Gene felt anxious. "Daaaaaaadaaaaa," Gary wailed fitfully. He held out his uninjured hand towards his police officer father.

Gene ran to him, scooping Gary into a hug and holding him as close as possible. "What are yer doing?" the DCI asked "Why did yer make this mess?"

"That retard child needs a good smacking, if that 'thing' was mine it would be locked up in an institution!" one of the women from earlier shouted.

"And you need a parenting class and keeping your monster at home!" another voice yelled.

"Don't you dare talk to my Guv like that! And how dare you shame this innocent little boy for something he can't control!" This was a voice sounding remarkably similar to John Simm who hoped he wouldn't get into trouble for defending his beloved boss.

It was Detective Inspector Sam Tyler of course!

The cleaner woman scoffed pointing to the floor; where exhibits of doughnuts, biscuits, coffee and broken china, splintered glass with a large coffee stain invading the carpet. "Shouldn't blame him? Look at what he did to the Ford customer lounge! He's much too old to be throwing a temper tantrum!" she hollered. Sam stepped in front of her starting negotiations like he heroically did; three years ago at the Manchester Gazette printing offices when a crazed former World War II soldier held the newspaper editors hostage with the CID team in 1973; Gene was particularly interested especially as it involved his other best friend Jackie Queen.

DI Sam Tyler defended and backed his boss to the hilt "This boy," he began seriously "has a spectrum disorder, it's something he was born with. It's still uncommon and rare that doctors are still conducting research on it, using children like Gary and others as their testing subjects. Gary has Autism Spectrum Disorder. It's an emerging concern for parents and caregivers." trying to get Joe Public to learn the biological reasons behind behaviour "Imagine having to do everything yourself - having an autistic child to care for, working as a high ranking police officer and running a household. Could you do it? No because you are ignorant like a colleague of ours DS Ray Carling when it comes to understanding non average people. I don't think you have any idea of what DCI Gene Hunt goes through with his child, every single day. My youngest niece at six has it; it's a battle to get her dressed in the morning. Can you imagine that - a six year old toddler operating four years younger; where everything is a battleground." he continued hoping the public understood the educational message "Please, before you go blaming the parent or child and sticking on the refrigerator mothers theory: put yourselves in their shoes. Or better yet don't comment unless you've got something nice to add to their predicament."

Gary looked back over his father's shoulder as Gene and Sam left with a new car in hand for the Guv, waving his bandaged little hand "Gary, sooooory!" he wept continuously.

DI Sam Tyler followed DCI Gene Hunt to their Fords each; to say it was awkward was an understatement. Sam shrugged to his Guv "I don't like ignorant people who judge a tantrum by its cover; they're ignorant and foolish people, I didn't like them judging your situation Gene. Sometimes you have to stand and speak up for what's right." Sam answered.

"I've always been this way with Gary, since nobody gives a shit on special kiddies like me boy!" intoned Gene as he picks up his brand new Ford on N registration plates.

"Hope your baby's hand gets better soon." DI Sam Tyler wished for little Gary Hunt to get well soon.

Gene watched Sam, one of the esteemed colleagues get into his inherited 1971-1972 Ford Cortina MkIII in that familiar metallic pink - why did so many occurrences happen today? It had to be for a specific reason. The Ford salesperson meeting, Gary's meltdown, nosy women gossiping and Sam Tyler protecting his Guv's little boy from the angry public witch hunting mob.

Gary Hunt whimpered from the back seat of the new Ford "Gary, thought Dada left like Mummy..." This stung harder than anything else that happened so far today inside the Ford of Greater Manchester Specialist Dealer.

Gary was literately so afraid of being abandoned that he worried himself into a drastic and severe tantrum; he really couldn't help this feature of Autism Spectrum Disorder. "Never, baby." whispered DCI Gene Hunt who wanted to let Gary know he is loved unconditionally, no matter what he did. He felt choked up with a dry throat. "I'd never leave you for anything, I'm yours forever as the only responsible parent you've got."


	13. Fever Bugs and DC Babysitters

**Chapter thirteen gets things moving in this BBC Life on Mars UK fan-fiction storyline "Autism Changes" as there's a certain Detective Constable babysitting a poorly sick little Gary Hunt, while DCI Gene Hunt gets summoned into Greater Manchester Police CID for another case on a cold winter's day. Let me know what you think; after all you are the readers, fans and audience!**

* * *

November 1976 - Yes of course Gary was sickening for a bug.

On the very same day DCI Gene Hunt was buying another top of the range new Ford executive saloon.

He awoken to a crying fit; nothing out of the ordinary, but persistent enough to draw the Detective Chief Inspector out of bed and into the nursery. Little Gary had been a mess, he'd vomited into his cot and was all blotchy faced wailing for his father's attention. So Gene thought of calling DI Sam Tyler. But he knew Sam Tyler would be on a honeymoon with WDC Annie Cartwright. DS Ray Carling couldn't be trusted to not irresponsibly act reckless towards his Guv's autistic child, so this was definitely out of the equation; since one time Gene furiously demoted Ray to Detective Constable. Although DCI Gene Hunt was reluctant at first, he agreed to a case of Bonfire Night thugs setting off fireworks in council estates when children were indoors for bed. Gene got dressed while simultaneously attempting to calm son Gary's fit (which was a mixture of his being overtired, hungry, achy on the tummy, unrested and ill with a fever thrown in for good measure) which seemed unending. Gene tried to mop the boy's forehead with a damp flannel while buttoning his collared shirt when all of a sudden the telephone rang.

Leaving the screaming child and running to the hallway half dressed, Gene scrambled to the telephone. Upon picking up the receiver Gene could hear an overexcited voice belonging to DC Chris Skelton. "Guv! No need to worry as I'll be babysitting for you and I don't mind if your little Gary is feeling rough as a badger's arse. I'll fill in for you at home and I love kids."

"Err, no go ahead and thanks for doing that Christopher." as Gene hung up the phone to be put back on it's cradle.

Gary Hunt's screaming became a distant memory as DCI Gene Hunt realised he could trust his finest three of DI Sam Tyler, WDC Annie Cartwright and DC Chris Skelton only. He glanced back at the nursery, from which high pitched shrieks were emanating. Gene ran back to his bedroom dressing hurriedly, wearing everything except his kipper tie because Gary had begun diarrhoea related throwing up yet again.

The poor child was so weak from whatever little bug he'd caught, Gary couldn't scream anymore; letting out shaky sobs and gasps while desperately reaching out for his father to cuddle him. "Dadaaaaaa..." he moaned tearfully. DCI Gene Hunt sighed "Daddy has to go to work and catch more scum - if Daddy could stay he would. You're going to have DC Chris Skelton for a babysitter. You'll have to be a very good boy for him, alright? Very good." he explained. Gary cried some more "Dada, n-no go away!" the little boy stammered leaving out don't. Gene kissed his burning forehead, promising it wouldn't be forever.

The doorbell rang as DC Chris Skelton stood at the front door next to his Guv's brand new Ford executive saloon.

Gene decided to carry Gary with him to lessen the crying (although it was still going strong) and shuffled towards the front wearing his trademark leather tasselled loafer shoes in whitish cream. "Hi, Guv," he greeted calmly as not to spook Gene's baby boy.

"Is your baby not feeling well?" Detective Constable Skelton asked.

"Err, yeah he's a bit under the weather. Listen are you sure you can manage this?" Gene replied back.

"Guv I'm comfortable with it as long as you are. I knew you needed a babysitter, Gary was sick and you are required on that case about the Bonfire Night thugs. I'm used to kids unusual habits, I understand." said Chris Skelton "Better you leave him with me, rather than Dog Shit Carling."

"But my Gary's not your average eleven year old." said DCI Gene Hunt uncertainly.

"And by the time you're back home from CID, everything will be fine." smiled the late teen to twenty something year old assuring.

DCI Gene planted a kiss on Gary's reddened cheek just as he headed towards the front door for his Ford executive saloon car.

DC Chris Skelton gently bounced Gary on his hip for a while, talking to him over the screaming and crying "I know you don't feel good... maybe I can help you... want to go on your potty first and lie down on your soft bed?" he cooed. Gary sobbed weakly, reaching out his hands towards the doorway of his nursery bedroom.

He was carried inside to the bathroom to do his business first. Then in his nursery bedroom laid on the bed and got his face cooled down with some gentle flannel pats "Does that feel better?" Chris Skelton softly asked. Gary let out a feverish shiver, but instantly got covered by his soft continental quilt. Opening his red teary eyes "Miss, Dada..." Gary whimpered honestly. Chris smiled "It's alright to miss him, but your Daddy will never leave you. I promise."

DC Chris Skelton worked hard all day at his Guv's home to make Gary feel a little bit better from the sickness bug. He had to resort to giving the boy plenty of fluids, extra soft blankets to keep Gene's little boy warm and introduced the concept of lemonade to settle his upset stomach. It was nearly time for Gary's nap (and Chris was working towards leaving the room quietly, although the little boy wasn't having any of that).

"Let's just take a nap now, alright?" Chris asked with a deep breath he realised he was holding in.

Gary was sleepy from the medication he had to take, so laid down without a fight of protest. Gene's younger colleague rubbed Gary's tummy as the boy closed his eyes.

After the nap, he knew the child was doing better when he asked for lemonade and toast. Every time Gary took a sip, he'd scrunch his face up and burst into laughter. "Pop, pop, pop!" he squealed at the sensation in his mouth, Gary stopped throwing up around 4:00 pm. DCI Gene Hunt came home an hour later as DC Chris Skelton and leading his Guv out of the room. "Need to talk to you about something, Guv." he murmured, with Gene following. Immediately after they went into the kitchen, Gary babbled to himself in his secret baby talk as usual.

"Does your Gary always do this?" whispered Chris stood near the cooker.

"I don't really listen to him, because sometimes Gary only speaks his secret baby talk when he's by himself. Although when stressed he won't speak English." explained DCI Gene Hunt wearing a spivvy camel hair coat.


	14. Stranger Danger Alerts on Christmas

**Chapter fourteen is set in the Christmas month of December as Gary wanders off after a stranger tricks him and the terrified Detective Chief Inspector must find his little boy around Manchester's high street. This is also the first time we know of Gary's imaginary friend, introduced five years ago in 1973, aged eight. Let me know what you're thinking as you read, reviews and follows add to the experience!**

* * *

December 1978 - Younger children and sometimes people with disabilities had strong spirited imaginary friends as confirmed by Dr. Landon Prose during a consultation. So DCI Gene Hunt would listen in through the nursery door and whenever he thought Gary was just babbling to himself. He wasn't as Gary was using his developmental leaps with his imaginary friend.

Gary was actually holding conversations with "Cody Puzzler". He laughed, sang, answered and asked questions. This was an unusual imaginary friend clearly influential on the little boy - Gene assumed it would be just a normal run of the mill one - no it wasn't as this lasted for three years on the trot constantly. Cody Puzzler a penguin who loved to solve code; never got in the way of Gary's life; when it was time to focus, do lessons or talk to anyone else; he would do so without quibble. In fact the MENCAP autism support playgroup forum and direct contact made his speech better over time. And more noticeably too. Gary now used pronouns to refer to himself - using first person reference for quite a while now: I, me, myself (etc.) DCI Gene Hunt at thirty five was proud of his son, even though the tantrums still existed; he found Gary getting better with his Autism Spectrum Disorder.

The tiny teenager clung to his father's hand as they made their way around Manchester City Centre in Market Street. It was incredibly packed with Christmas shoppers pushing everyone to do their preparation before the big jolly guy in red comes to town on 25th December. Gene looked down, reaching over to pull the boy's small hat down over his ears "Cold, baby?" he asked. Gary replied "I am warm." Gene guided him into a McDonalds in Arndale, apart from the London one opening four years ago in 1974. "Mmmmmmm!" hummed Gary as the Golden Arches were still exotic on British soil since eating out without cutlery was frowned upon. The warm enticement of fast food with delicious apple pies, Big Macs, milkshakes and fries wafting through the air made Christmas on the High Street more enjoyable.

DCI Gene Hunt grinned down at him with the promise of visiting Father Christmas's grotto as Gary had been so well behaved while he had a list of people of buy for. "Can you go sit at a table for me? Can you wait for Daddy over there?" pointing to an empty table and asking realising the McDonalds hamburger bar had a long line of people queuing; since fast food restaurants weren't grab and go affairs in those days; he knew Gary would tire of standing (which would accidentally begin a tantrum). Gary nodded "Okay, Daddy." Gene was putting in their burger orders and waited in line to get burgers including fries with cash upfront. Occasionally he'd check on Gary by glancing back and saw that his little boy is sitting quietly; looking around the brand new McDonalds restaurant.

An elderly woman approached Gary and began lying "I just approached your father and he told me you have to wait outside as children don't belong in restaurants, so sit outside on the steps and he'll be out in a few minutes." sickeningly sweet to trick a Detective Chief Inspector's autistic child on.

"Daddy says I shouldn't talk to strange people..." Gary said shyly.

"No, I'm not a stranger because I spoke to your Chief Inspector father. I'm just giving you a message from him."

"Yes, miss."

"Run along, you little tyke!" she scolded.

The little boy ran off from the Arndale branch of McDonalds, before his father had a chance to stop him.

A middle aged woman looked up from her quarter pounder. "You shouldn't have done that." she said to the ignorant sixty odd year old woman that had sent Gary away. She was snappy "those psychotic children shouldn't be in restaurants, ought be out of sight and out of mind!"

"That child wasn't all there, why would a young child be seated whilst queuing if there wasn't something wrong with them?"

"He could hold a conversation, no excuse he's just shy!"

"That DCI's child never made eye contact, he couldn't speak correctly. You have irresponsibly sent a kid that can't take care of himself and collect his thoughts out in the High Street without a responsible adult!" she responded harshly.

Where was Gary?

DCI Gene Hunt scanned the entire McDonalds restaurant, starting to believe his gut instinct getting nervous about something suspicious happening. The McDonalds order queue had been that long - Gary wouldn't had time to run away. "Have any of you seen me son?" he asked. The Italian woman who also witnessed the incident unfolding, joined by her husband "A woman shooed him outside." he stated "She told him that you asked him to wait outside and you'd collect him, once you ordered."

"WHAT?!" shouted DCI Gene Hunt "Why? I should have put Gary in his Maclaren Major special needs pram, if I knew this would happen." he muttered "Today of all days!"

DCI Gene Hunt was frantically searching around the Manchester City Centre in his Ford executive saloon thinking where would his son go to or think of visiting, his blue eyes filled with panic and occasionally calling the little boy's name outside toy shops. "Gary?!" he shouted peering into every shop window and car window on foot, if he had to park up. Oh where was his baby boy? Gene scrubbed at his face with his patented black leather driving gloves, maybe one of the police stations in Central Manchester found Gary and had the wandering child waiting there.

Desk officer Phyllis Dobbs asked DCI Gene Hunt "Come inside this station here, we need to talk to you about something." she sternly asked as it looked liked she dreaded 'A' Division officers from Greater Manchester Police, sucking on oranges with black coffee as Phyllis was busy sifting through old casenotes.

Thank god Greater Manchester Police actually had Gary Hunt. Phew! What a relief.


	15. Gary Hunt thinks he's been Naughty

**In Greater Manchester Police CID on a cold December still in 1978, Gary Hunt is having an autism meltdown after he's been irresponsibly clinically detained by Detective Sergeant Ray Carling who doesn't give a damn about his Guv son's condition of Autism Spectrum Disorder. More content for BBC Life on Mars UK "Autism Changes" will be arriving and I'll let you fellow fan fiction authors know when it's completely finished! This is to tie up chapter fourteen.**

* * *

DCI Gene Hunt sat waiting near desk officer Phyllis Dobbs's custody suite on a red plastic school style chair, just wanting to hold his baby's hand in silence.

Or maybe it was worse watching as he had awful tantrums, letting out piercing shrieks and cries as Detective Sergeant Ray Carling was continuing to torment little Gary Hunt for something he couldn't help after today's traumatic event in the Arndale branch of McDonalds during lunch at 12:00 or 12:30 pm.

Gary Hunt will talk to anyone - even if they are a complete stranger. He is too trusting, despite knowing all about stranger danger, he can't generalise it to actually mean the people he comes into contact with. In fact it's included in his statement of special needs, because it makes him very vulnerable.

Emotionally, Gene realised recently that he is actually on a par with a just 4 year old child. His reactions to situations are very much instant, over the top and reactionary with no time for thinking things through. In fact, DS Ray Carling's threats of clinical detentions made the meltdown worse, that it caused fireworks; Gary couldn't recognise his own Detective Chief Inspector father.

DCI Gene Hunt leaned in closer "Daddy's right here," he whispered "Daddy loves you." The boy halted his meltdown to just sniffles, red face streaked in tears. Gary turned to his father's face "I... I" he stammered out.

"No, no baby. You don't have to talk. Shhhhhh, just rest for me." ordered the camel coat wearing male to his beloved son Gary.

"I'm sorry for being a naughty bad boy! And I still haven't seen Father Christmas!" he wailed desperately wanting to make it up to his Detective Chief Inspector father.

"Why are you sorry, Gary? You haven't done anything naughty." Gene had a cheeky laugh and an angelic glint in his eye reassuring and making the situation positive for his sweet mini me junior.

"I ran away from Daddy..." wept tiny thirteen year old Gary Hunt.

"No, you didn't! You were lied to and tricked by a strange lady. It's very naughty." he explained "Remember you were asked by her to wait outside McDonalds? She's a liar and Daddy never said that."

"I never lie to Daddy." replied Gary "Will we still be able to see Father Christmas?" he asked as at thirteen he still believed in Father Christmas due to his immaturity.

"I know, Gary. Why don't you try for some sleep when in the car?" said DCI Gene Hunt softly "then you'll be awake to see Father Christmas's grotto!"

DCI Gene Hunt had Gary in his arms clearly furious with his loud mouthed curly haired moustached colleague "Clearly you don't understand that my kiddie has what DI Tyler calls Autism Spectrum Disorder; it's a social development disorder!"

DS Ray Carling snarled "Your kid is a nutter, Guv. You give into him under the excuse it's something he can't control!" spat out in a violent temper.

DCI Gene Hunt defended his son "No, he's not! Why else would I put his bloody name down for that new special school for children and people with social development problems?!" the Guv is well known for sticking up for nicer colleagues like DC Chris Skelton, DI Sam Tyler, WDC Annie Cartwright but especially his baby boy Gary as when it came to the more corrupt constructs of Greater Manchester Police CID or shockingly ignorant members of the public, he put his legendary stance to good use.

DS Ray Carling laughed raucously "Your boy's a poofter, a camp figure and a nancy Manchester United fan!" never caring to understand why Gary wouldn't behave like a usual boy, even though there is a medical reason behind this.

DCI Gene Hunt snapped "Get back to work or go chat rubbish on a one night stand! You expect me to eat up on your crap on my Gary's autism thingy, I won't stand for it!" storming back to his Ford executive saloon with the child safely wrapped round his beige camel coat.


	16. An New Autism Special School

**Chapter sixteen for BBC Life on Mars UK "Autism Changes" storyline; this time set in 1981 with a world of pastel colours, the Brixton riots, Princess Diana Spencer's marriage to Prince Charles and shoulder pads. Gene's infamous mullet hairstyle actually now belongs instantly; instead of looking unusual like it did during the Seventies in Manchester. The DCI embraces the new ways of policing as he took his three faithful colleagues of DI Sam Tyler, WDC Annie Cartwright and DC Chris Skelton with him to show the Southerners how crime busting is done.**

 **DCI Gene Hunt will get his new Ford Granada MkII Ghia X with a 2.8 litre V6 direct injection engine in the colour of champagne gold on an X registration plate.**

 **Anyway, Gary Hunt is going to a brand new special school designed for children and people with social disorders, how will he react to the new experience? Enjoy as usual!**

* * *

September 1981 - DCI Gene Hunt shifted in his bed as the early morning sun creeped through the sky, he had transferred to London's Metropolitan Police CID in Fenchurch East, marking a fresh start away from Greater Manchester Police after nearly 17 years of having to cope with unconstructed corrupt coppers from 1962-1980 taking three of his finest from DI Tyler, DC Chris Skelton and WDC Annie Cartwright as he would have more new people coming to join them; in order to turn around London's Metropolitan Police Fenchurch East's failing Criminal Investigations Department fortunes at nearly thirty eight.

Detective Sergeant Ray Carling stayed firmly behind in Greater Manchester Police to be with DI Bevan, DC Garrett as it is now headed by DCI "Twathead" Derek Litton who was Gene Hunt's rival as the maverick three thought Gene having an autistic son turned him soft or if it wasn't that, then they teased him for having Gary when nothing more than a kid himself. He quoted harshly "I wouldn't be seen dead policing Southerners, your boy was a product of y' teenage boy years and turned you soft! Coppers down south are expected to be lefty social workers!"

This morning would be DCI Gene Hunt's toughest challenge, but it wouldn't beat the Gene Genie would it?

The child in bed with him turned over, small arms wrapping around him and pulling himself closer "Dada," he murmured, but Gene could still hear that little boy voice so proudly even though he was nearly sixteen. Tears jumped to Gene's eyes for the millionth time this week. "Yes, baby?" he whispered as Gary still hadn't opened his eyes and he slipped his hand into his father's. "Scared."

"Scared? Why are you scared, love?" asked DCI Gene Hunt who knew something new on the horizon was coming.

"I go away to a new school."

"Yes, sweetheart, but I'm going to pick you up. You're not going away forever, it'll be just like that playgroup you used to go into."

"What if I miss you, Daddy?"

"You still have that photo of me and Mummy?"

"I always keep that in my pocket."

"Well just keep me in mind, if yer start to get homesick for Daddy. Anyway I'll be having fun at work with Drakey and my team."

Gary was going to a brand new special school for people with social disorders every day without his Detective Chief Inspector father.

The boy was snuggled in closer to Gene's chest sighing into his son's hair. "I'm going to miss you, Gary." he whispered. For a long time they both depressingly realised they would be separated for the first time ever. DCI Gene Hunt composed himself for several minutes beginning to fear that Gary had fallen back to sleep. He didn't want to do this whole wake the child up for school thing every parent did - Gene had never done it before and starting now just felt strange. "Do you want to get dressed?" he asked softly. To his relief Gary got out his clothes for the day and started to get dressed.

Afterwards Gene was sat in his brand new champagne gold Ford Granada MkII Ghia X asked "Are you excited for school today, Gary?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders.

"I will miss my home. I won't be able to play with my toys when I want to."

"Yeah, but you can play with them after. When one of Daddy's mates takes over and I pick you up to bring you home. Then you can play with your toys." explained DCI Gene Hunt.

"Lunch and playtime?" questioned Gary Hunt.

"What? Yes they have lunch and playtime there. I made you a special lunch already. In the new Transformers lunch box I got you, just like the cool kids. Don't open it until 12 or 12:30 pm, it's a surprise!"

"Okay, Daddy."

"As we're in the car, how about we stop by that new doughnut joint before school, for brekkie?"

"Daddy, it's so early in the morning! It's only 7:30 am!"

"Yeah, because school starts at 9:00 am." replied Gene as he drove the futuristic square boxy Ford executive saloon.

"I don't know if it'll be fun and I like it." doubted Gary Hunt.

"You'll get used to it and have lots of fun, come on!" said the Detective Chief Inspector cheerfully.

It was called Dunking Donuts as the American multi-national company had recently opened a branch in Fenchurch East. Gene felt a small hand slip into his. Gary had always been taught to hold Daddy's hand when out in town. What was he going to do by himself, except play out? They purchased the vanilla doughnut with pink sprinkles and chocolate frosting. But Gary left a piece and claimed his stomach had the sad feelings, even though he ate most of it.

DCI Gene Hunt looked at his brand new silver Casio digital watch; it showed 8:30 am "We should get going to school, baby." he prompted.

Gary frowned for a bit, but then followed his father to the waiting unashamedly gold Ford Granada MkII Ghia X that screamed Eighties and early Nineties cool with it's array of gadgets including electric windows and four built in 3 point seatbelts.

It was a brand new large building with silver double glazed windows dedicated to people like Gary. The colourful corridors were decorated with pictures for all ages; the alphabet, numbers, colours, Elmer the elephant and teddy bears. Gary shrank closer to his father, holding the hand of Gene Hunt desperately until room 3B.

A kind woman stood in the doorway; greeting all the parents, carers, guardians and clients that were showing up. "Hello!" she greeted excitedly "I'm going to be one of your teachers "My name is Mrs. Rosemary Smith, what's your name?" Gary stared at her, but stood behind his father's trousers in nervousness "Sorry," Gene said trying to sound like the others whom have sent many children to school already. "This is me son Gary Hunt. And I'm his father DCI Gene Hunt of London's Metropolitan Police." She smiled gently and Gene could tell she was fantastic with autistic people as patience was one of the required characteristics. "Well it's very nice to meet you both, a detective chief inspector in the school; the board of governors will be very impressed!" she said "Well don't worry, we're all going to be good friends, Gary! How about you come inside the classroom and Mrs. Dewbury will show you your desk and resources." she suggested, but Gary got even more nervous and shrank back.

DCI Gene Hunt turned and knelt down to Gary's level. Tears were beginning to storm a brim in his son's eyes "Daddy..." he whimpered. Gene swallowed a lump in his throat "You have to be a big boy, Gary. Go in there and play, they'll help you show how smart you are. I know you can do it." he encouraged. "Daddy..." as tears leaked down Gary's cheeks "Don't go please!" he begged as Gene showed his own sadness through sniffles, desperately holding his little boy "Be strong, I'm going to go to the police station now." he said wiping his eyes on his handkerchief. Gary let out a little cry of panic "You be a good boy, I'll see you later, alright?" as the Detective Chief Inspector kissed his son before leaving "I love you!" He turned to leave the 3B classroom and walked through the corridor hallway leaving Gary with his new friends, auxiliary assistants and teachers.

But then Gene heard the crying.

Gary was sobbing his little heart out, bawling and running towards DCI Gene Hunt. "Daddddddyyyy!" he wailed. Mrs. Smith placed a hand over her worried mouth, she ducked inside. DCI Gene Hunt shook his head tutting as he carried an inconsolable Gary to the classroom. "You have to do this, it's the law. It's going to be good for yer. Go in to play, say hi to the other kids and eat yer yummy biscuits. Alright? It's going to be okay, Gary. It will be." But Gene's little boy wouldn't let up, begging for his father to not leave him. Mrs. Smith reappeared near Gary with a 1978 toy Corgi Ford Transit breakdown van "We have lots of good toys and resources inside," he accepted the toy "Cars!" he confirmed with a nod of the head. Mrs. Smith patted his back "Good boy, Gary! Such a good listener!" as she led little Gary into the classroom. He only paused to give his father DCI Gene Hunt one more wave as the Chief Inspector headed for the shiny gold MkII Ford Granada Ghia X.

Meanwhile at Metropolitan Police Fenchurch East, CID; Gene called Sam "Sammy boy, I sent him." he explained breathlessly.

"Good! How did he manage?" the jet black head asked.

"Horrible. Gary cried, screamed and chased after me... I think I may have been too hasty and put him in this new environment very early. Maybe I should have done a staggered start or waited a year."

"Gene, he's nearly sixteen. He had to go otherwise it'd be breaking the educational authority and council's laws. He'll be fine and have terrific fun, all young or disabled kids do this." explained senior Detective Inspector Sam Tyler.

"What if I go pick him up early? Just gradually ease me boy into it?"

"Then his routine would be unconstructed and thrown off. Gene, you've got to let Gary go the whole day, pick him up when me or DI Alex Drake take over from your shift for you to collect him home. And start afresh tomorrow, you've read all these starting school books to your Gary; that's all you can do." continued DI Tyler.

"He's just my everything apart from my team and the Ford."

"I'm proud of you Guv, your methods may not always be agreeable but it gets results."

"I trust you, Drakey, Christopher Skelton, Shazzer Grainger and Cartwright. Yer my mates here."

"You brought the Manc Lion charms, you didn't back down and brought him back to that classroom, even when your Gary was chasing after you. You were strong." answered the new woman Detective Inspector Alexandra "Alex" Drake.

DCI Gene Hunt shared in the pride and good feelings with his new CID team surrounded by his three old friends from back in the day at Manchester. The day went fast as he did the usual caseloads and when he went to pick Gary up. Gene's little boy felt ecstatic with everything he's been doing today. Gary filled his satchel with pictures, spelling tests and all sorts of mathematics sum sheets to show DCI Gene Hunt. And declared he would live inside this brightly colourful fantastic building. As worried as the Guv felt this morning - he had a new sense of pride in his son that would take another step towards almost being a normal eight year old kid.


	17. Halloween and the new ET Film

**Chapter seventeen of BBC Life on Mars UK "Autism Changes" is set during October in which the new E.T film is released, introducing the British public to the name Halloween, as previously it was simply called guising. Gary cannot wait to see the film at the ABC cinema's Kids Club and go trick or treating with some of DI Sam Tyler's nephews and nieces. He enjoys playing new games, riding bicycles with his friends and the special school has widened his world.**

* * *

October 1982 - The cool autumn breeze blew through the windows of Metropolitan Police's Fenchurch East besides DCI Gene Hunt's office. He'd been working on the usual cases of junkies, burglaries, murders and corrupt police officers from his old Greater Manchester Police team; Gene's eyes were twitching from exhaustion as he was typing on his Commodore 64 computer unit; but it would be worth it. It would be 31st October, and for the first time Gary was actually aware of Halloween (guising), trick or treating, party pieces and costumes. Special school had really opened his eyes to the world. All the kids in his class were talking about it, during their work bays, and he came home one day begging to see the new E.T film, go trick or treating and wear a costume. Except that was two weeks ago. Gene had to patiently explain to a teary eyed little boy that Halloween only occurred the night before 1st of November. Gary decided he wanted to wear a costume of his own.

Ever since Gary Hunt could walk, Gene had dressed him in shop brought costumes, where he would watch the kids go door to door around the neighbourhood. Gary never really lasted long; he'd either pick at his own costume, throw a fitty tantrum or demand to be carried on most years. He wouldn't eat the Swizzels Matlow chewy sweets he'd get resulting in the Detective Chief Inspector eating it until Christmas especially if they contained Gene's favourite Sherbet Fountain, when he and Sam lived in Manchester since their childhood. But this time in 1982, Gary Hunt was actually excited especially as he saw the new E.T film in the ABC cinema's Kids Club about a ten year old boy making friends with an alien who built a communicator out of a red _Texas Instruments Speak & Spell_ device with hard orange and red circle keys. And he wanted to be a special character to get his sweets.

Thankfully at nearly seventeen, Gary could still fit in the children's clothes in Woolworths, when Gene brought him a blue sparkly dinosaur costume especially for the occasion. Gary was not allowed to peek until the very actual night.

A door in the council house slammed accompanied by a shriek of laughter, DCI Gene Hunt sighed. "Gary, what did I tell you about slamming doors and being noisy on yer brand new Raleigh Chopper MkII Prismatic?!" he shouted as a giggle ran down the hallway with Gary pushing the Prismatic Raleigh Chopper MkII astride with his feet toddling around "Daddy, you're a robber!" as he was playing at cops and robbers; the boy's voice called out and he wasn't allowed to use it's pedals indoors. Gary had learned lots of playground games. While he wasn't the best or got scared when his friends were riding their BMX bicycles; he was a champion at others especially tag. DCI Gene Hunt was about to remind Gary of the rules when the telephone rang at the worse possible time.

It was DC Chris Skelton when Gene picked up the receiver "Hello?" he was CID's practical joker having plenty of jokes at hand.

"Knock, knock Betty Guv!" he joked.

"Laugh all you like Christopher, I bet you're going as Superman? But my Gary's going to love his new dinosaur costume!" Gene replied.

"I scared my girlfriend Wendy by dressing up as the Grim Reaper for breakfast to remind her of being a mother of three kids! Unfortunately I got into a lot of trouble!" The Detective Constable sniggered "The baby's dressing as a pumpkin, Rebecca is a princess and Linda soiled her pants again."

"Chris! You can't do that to birds with kids; especially if she's been up the duff three times before!"

"I certainly learned this today, she's given me a list of boring housework. It's like I'm a kid again, I swear Guv! She'll hide all the sweets from me as a forfeit!" moaned DC Chris Skelton as he was still a kid himself in the early 1970s, nine to twelve years ago.

"You deserve it, serves you right for pranking your new girlfriend Wendy!" added DCI Gene Hunt who was decorating the lounge room with spooky Halloween decorations.

The phone rang again as DCI Gene Hunt asked Gary to fetch the phone "Could you get that, son?" he said "I'm on it!" shouted Gary, it certainly made for bizarre but interesting conversation about his new dinosaur costume, "Daddy it's uncle Sammy!" as the boy thrusted the receiver into DCI Gene Hunt's hands.

"Hey, Gladys!" Gene teased his senior Detective Inspector using one of Sam Tyler's nicknames of endearment.

"I was just calling to see if 6:00 PM was still okay for you, Boss?"

"It's fine, Sammy dude. But me Gary's super hyper right now so I'll wait until the baby's calmed down before I even think of 'elping him into his dinosaur costume. I don't know what sweet or fizzy pop made him so highly strung?" said the Detective Chief Inspector in his original Manchurian accent.

Gene grinned "Alright 6:00 pm, the sweetie blags are still on for business just like the over the counter jobs, in t' old days."

"Get that lollypop out of the baby's hand, and put it in the bin right now young lady! The baby will take her eyes out!" DI Sam Tyler's nieces and nephews could be heard in the background, just before the call finishes.

Gene chuckled as he was happy with Gary, but could never imagine having clones of him; Sam's older sister demonstrated why. He glanced another look at the dinosaur costume hung up, when he suddenly noticed Gary laying on the lounge floor next to his new Prismatic Raleigh Chopper MkII feeling despondently. Gene ran to him "Are you okay, baby? Gary?" he gasped. Gary brought up his beautiful blue eyes to his father "I'm bored of cops and robbers, can I now play at being a dinosaur in my new costume?"

"Well how about I park your Chopper toy on it's kickstand underneath the staircase? Cheer up, baby." encouraged DCI Gene Hunt.

"Daddy got you this shiny blue dinosaur costume, in the Woolworths shop we have pick 'n' mix and toys to. Want to see it?"

With the Raleigh Chopper tucked safely underneath the stairs, Gary picked himself up as his eyes widened and jaw dropped. "Daddy!" he gasped showing his gratitude - all purely from the heart, in the awe Gary was feeling. "Can I put it on, Daddy?" Gary asked sweetly as he slipped off his shirt and jeans, right there with no shame added, and let his father help him into the shiny sparkly blue dinosaur costume. Gary broke out into a smile "I am a Garysaur!" he cried out as he laughed at himself in the bathroom mirror after DCI Gene Hunt burst into laughter himself. How could Gary think so quick and come up with an imaginative but original name; perfect for his dinosaur costume, now that Gary named it.

"Garysaur! Garysaur!" he cried out bouncing around the house pretending to be a stegosaurus, turned round to his father and roared, Gene was very accustomed to his son's quirks as part of the Autism Spectrum Disorder.

It was virtually impossible to entice little Gary out of this costume - even for a minute especially when DI Sam Tyler arrived with his nieces and nephews.

DCI Gene Hunt thought about when he and Stuart used to do childhood things like this, when his drunken pig of a father was safely at the pub with his workmates; still wanted to do guising; yet there he was holding coloured plastic sandcastle buckets for his and son Gary's sweets. Matthew's older sisters were babysitting and taking the neighbours young children for sweets with them; making twelve year old Matthew and the adult police officers stand out from the crowd.

"Ready to go?" Gene asked.

Gary nodded as Matthew was dressed in a Sheriff's outfit "Matty, I'm a Garysaur!" the smaller of the two boys crowed and the adults led the pack with Gary holding DCI Gene Hunt's hand and his own coloured plastic empty sandcastle bucket to start the Halloween (guising) traditions. (Gary never let go of his father's hand in town, since that stranger danger incident nearly four years ago).


	18. The Epilogue

**Chapter eighteen is finally here and it explores what happened to Gene's former Greater Manchester Police CID colleagues - especially his three bitter maverick rivals after he, Sam Tyler, Chris Skelton and Annie Cartwright left Northern England for London's Metropolitan Police in February 1980. It completes the _Autism Changes_ storyline for Life on Mars UK. **

**Hope you have enjoyed my first multi chapter fan fiction!**

* * *

Set in the early 1990s finishing where 1982 left off.

DS Ray Carling born 1933 or 1934 was still brutal and violent with suspects at Greater Manchester Police especially when using Lost Property or the canteen, he has put a previously healthy man in hospital after he claimed this driver was caught speeding on the Manchester motorway network. However DCI Derek "Twathead" Litton allows his team to be corrupt, crude and unconstructed as they do not value investigative methods and forensics. Instead preferring violence and underhand tactics like bribes. The newspaper report had been written by Gene's journalist friend Jackie Queen with a front page headline on a bad tempered Detective Chief Inspector - "A Fistful of Bribes and Bloodied Suspects or Victims".

DCI Derek Litton continued running Greater Manchester Police CID; he never left Manchester and at his team's retirement party somewhere in the early 1990s; they spoke fondly of the bad old days in paradise. Gene with his esteemed colleagues from DCI Tyler, DI Alex Drake, DS Chris Skelton and DS Annie Cartwright only returned to see how horribly their former team had aged.

DI Tyler commented "Half of the old CID are chronic alcoholics, have been since Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister nearly 11-14 years ago from 1979; aged disgustingly and their fitness levels indicate they're twice their actual ages." it felt horribly familiar when Sam knew Gene's mentor Harry Woolf had six months to a year at most to live on his cancer prognosis.

DCI Gene Hunt is in line for a promotion as Superintendent of London's Metropolitan Police CID in his mid to late forties "Glad to see the idiotic old school police officers, in Greater Manchester Police CID; forced into retirement. Old Ray Carling used to make me accept backhanders, like a partner I had way back in 1962 when I first joined the Force as a lanky teenager; I swore I would never be like the old team, when we were in Manchester after we've witnessed some stuff that would make t' public wet their pants." He still hates DCI "Twathead" Litton to this day

Annie Cartwright replied "Well that is why we've moved to London in February 1980, Sir. So we would be able to make a fresh start away from underhand corrupt and old fashioned police officers; I remember when then DS Ray Carling pinched my skirt during your congratulations on my promotion to Detective Constable, Gene."

DCI Gene Hunt stood up on the podium "We're a better team in Metropolitan Police CID down in London, fighting the rot together or fishing out corrupt officers than those idiots in Greater Manchester Police will ever be!" he touched the audience with his speech "Meanwhile, moi here will be promoted to Superintendent, but I'll still be out on the streets; in between the desk jobs. I intend to drink the North Sea equivalent of champers!"


End file.
